


a rose by any other name

by cosmicphan



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Actor Dan, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Actors, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Light Angst, M/M, Phandom Big Bang 2017, Strangers to Lovers, abuse mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-12
Updated: 2017-11-12
Packaged: 2019-02-01 08:45:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 25,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12701424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmicphan/pseuds/cosmicphan
Summary: There is an urge to change the topic. Phil asks, “Did you choose your favourite flower, then?”“What’s your favourite?”“Roses, I guess. They’re a classic.”“So, roses are my favourite too,” Dan replies easily.“That’s not fair.”“No, I trust your taste. And everything is fair…”“That’s really not how it works. But I’ll leave you if you promise to give me an answer later.”“You’ll have to meet me later then.”“I wouldn’t be opposed to that, actually.”Dan gives him a small smile and then he’s looking at the pool, smile still intact. Phil wonders if Dan even knows he’s smiling. It looks good on him. It’s dark out now but the light from the party falls on Dan’s profile, a galaxy. His eyes turn honey, almost gold like. He remembers dark eyes from the cafe, but this, this lightness of his eyes, Phil discovers, is his favourite.((AU where Dan Howell is an actor and Phil Lester is a lot of things- hopeful and fearful included))





	a rose by any other name

**Author's Note:**

> i can't believe i actually have completed this! this is the biggest thing i have ever written and it may seem that it is not much but it's massive for me and i am so proud of it!
> 
> honestly shout out to my beta, i would probably have not completed this at all. thanks for the grammar lesson, i'll probably never remember them soz
> 
> ((the art will be up in a few days, i'll link it here when it's ready!))

Phil walks into _The Cafe_. It is the only the coffee shop that he can afford to go in LA regularly and the atmosphere reflects that. It has traded cloth table napkins and comfortable chairs for cheaper coffee and Phil is not going to argue with that logic. _The Cafe_ , besides having the most meta name, smells of familiarity and comfort. It smells like most of his mornings when he opens the doors, roasted coffee. The walls are painted white, stark, besides a few lone framed paintings.

He orders his usual, the most basic coffee the shop has to offer (partly to avoid the glare of the tired university student that works there and partly to avoid having to mispronounce a fancy name).

He waits patiently for the barista to make his coffee. A smile and patience takes you a long way, his mother always tells him. He takes in his surroundings as he waits, the same LA sunlight pouring through the windows, casting glaring shadows on the floors. The same people he always sees. The rhythm of a routine. A postcard picture like image of his everyday life.

The barista, whose name Phil really ought to learn, places his coffee on the table. Phil takes it in his hand, smiling, an effort for the barista.

While getting to his table, a secluded spot at the far end, his eye catches the magazine stand. Living in LA among movie sets has taught him more about fashion magazines than he can care. There’s a face on the cover that is particularly intriguing. He pauses, nothing around him has changed. He picks up the magazine, head bowed down in a mixture of guilt and nervous excitement.

He sits down and takes a quick swallow of his coffee. His face is burning from the incriminating stares he has conjured in his mind. Taking another sip, he lets himself look at Dan Howell’s photo. It is a spectacular photo. The photographer has Dan in a red shirt, unbuttoned. He is lying on a gold sofa which is covered in rose petals. It would have been quite a romantic pose if it wasn’t for Dan’s smouldering gaze that seems to bore through Phil’s very being. Coupled with the lazy smirk that is playing on Dan’s lips, the stance evokes a less than innocent thought in Phil’s spiralling mind.

Dan Howell is the biggest movie star, straight from Phil’s homeland. He has been crowned the most eligible bachelor of the year. He has it all, talent, money, fame. 

Phil insists on staying away from people like these, even in fantasies.

With a sigh, he puts the magazine on the table, eyes still treacherously following Dan’s dimple.

“You’re staring again, Mr. No Homo.”

“Jeez, Sanam! You scared the shit out of me!”

She has slid in his seat without him knowing. Typical. She just laughs in response. Phil can’t help but crack a smile. Sanam is synonymous with best friend for him now. Her name is saccharine and sharp on the tongue, kind of like her. 

She is dressed in her signature bright colours, her hair cut short. It is still a little weird to look at her and not see long black hair framing her face. The decision to chop her hair was impulsive, just like her. What is consistent is the mischievous grin that permanently resides on her face.

“I’m not Mr. No Homo, I’m Mr. No Labels. And I was not staring.” He emphasizes the last word by pointing at the headline near Dan’s naked torso- _How to get the perfect beach body_ \- “I… was reading that-”

Phil wouldn’t believe himself. He drags his eyes away from Dan’s unbelievably smooth chest and looks at Sanam. Her eyebrows are raised dramatically and there is a grin threatening to pop out.

“I believe you,” she articulates.

“I don’t like him, Sanam. I just… was looking at the photos for… inspiration,” he grumbles.

“It’s okay if you like him, or rather, like to look at him. It’s okay to have crushes. You know that right?”

“I know that, but-”

“I know, I know, no celebrities. Good rule.” 

“I’m glad you understand,” he retorts. 

They had this conversation for the first time about Leonardo DiCaprio. It’s a long list after that. Phil is weak.

“I’m just saying you’ll look good together with your matching awful emo haircuts,” she said.

“It’s not emo, it’s alt-fashion, goddamn!”

 

*

 

There’s soft piano music playing in the ground. It’s Chopin, Phil thinks. He isn’t sure really. It’s smooth and euphonious and makes him want to submerge himself into warmth and honey. Maybe he can can soak up all the warm and the strange, pleasant feeling in his stomach and give it to the world. 

The only light in the room is coming from a chandelier. It is right in the middle of the room, gleaming, gold and breath taking. The room, he begins to notice, is bathed in a darkness that is illuminated only by the soft golden glow of the chandelier, almost like it is a star and the room, a planetary system. Everything seems to be saturated with a golden glow. He sways around to the music, amused to find that the glow follows him. His own star.

There are footsteps suddenly. The clacking of shoes, steady and calm. The footsteps are unhurried, deliberate, they are of someone who has thought everything out.

Phil turns around. There is a stairwell there suddenly. Descending from the stairs is Dan Howell.

Phil’s breath hitches. He looks stunning, he seems to be glowing, the light touching his face softly. He looks soft, hazy; like a reverie. He is in a suit. And he is walking towards him.

Dan’s eyes never leave his while he walks. Every foot that he takes forward seems to be well thought out, like the decision of walking towards Phil is the most important one that he has taken. He is wearing a smile, Phil finds himself smiling too. 

Dan reaches out and touches his face. His touch is like a fairy’s caress. Phil thinks he’s radiating; he feels a burning inside of him that makes him feel like he’ burn here, with Dan’s fingers just barely touching his jaw.

The music seems to be fading, he can hear the piano but it’s getting drowned out by the feeling of Dan’s hands on his hips, his hands on Dan’s as they are swaying. Swaying to not he music but the rhythm of each other. It feels more intimate without the music now. He's twirling as Dan’s fingers clutch at his. He might be soaring, because his feels the headiness, but his feet are grounded. 

The piano bleeds into something jarring. His feet don’t seem to be moving. Dan is disappearing before his eyes, he looks like a dream now more than ever. His touch is almost not there. The music is replaced by a series of beeps, mechanical, impersonal, careless.

 

*

 

Phil wakes up with a start. His phone is ringing.

“Hello, Sanam I am not helping you hide a dead body it’s 3am” his voice comes out croaky. He is trying to concentrate on her voice, faint flashes of his dream still leaking into his mind.

“There’s no dead body to hide,” Sanam sounds like she has already had two cups of coffee. “Yet,” she mutters under her breath. Phil laughs. He is prepared for that day.

“Do you remember the movie Dan Howell is in that I was talking about- anyway I don’t care if you know… The thing is I’M A BACKUP DANCER IN ONE OF THE SONGS- PHIL!”

This makes Phil sit up. “WHAT! That’s great oh my god but why 3am?”

“One of the other backup dancers got sick and I just got a call from my friend who is also a dancer so I’m filling in… Aahhh I’m so excited, Phil, this is a step closer to my dream. I can feel it.”

“I can feel it too Sanam, this is going to be great!” Being a part of her journey makes him thrilled and proud. He physically cannot be this excited for anyone else. “So what should I do? I’m on Sanam duty now.”

“I just want you to be at the shoot tomorrow. Moral support. I’ll text you the details. Aaahh Phil, I’m so excited!”

“I am too! See you tomorrow. Bye-”

Sanam cuts the phone. She lives life spontaneously, in bursts. She smiles and laughs and cries in a span of three minutes, uncaring of the world. Sanam knew what she wanted and she had been working towards it the day she came from India, bright-eyed and fearless. Phil envies the way she lives. It’s her aura that he wants to be his.

Phil lies back on the bed. Even after the excitement, the dream is still there in his mind, teasing. He turns to his side, gripping the blanket tighter. Everything seemed so magical, he felt lighter after the dream. His mind had conjured a vision of Dan Howell that he didn’t even know he had retained. Dreams are your subconscious, people say; he saw something miraculous in the form of a man.

Phil sighs. He doesn’t have it in him to interpret his dream.

“It didn’t have to mean anything.” Phil tells night air, hoping that it believes it more than him.

 

*

 

It’s a good morning. Despite the excited call and the dream last night, Phil slept soundly. 

The image of Dan touching his face, precious but distant is still fresh in his mind. Going through his morning routine, he still feels rather light, like he is floating on a cloud. The dream had dissipated but the glow it had left settled comfortably in Phil’s being. He could have this for himself, maybe. 

The glow is soon replaced by excitement for Sanam. This could be her break and she deserves it. The shoot is in the late morning, giving him time to pay a visit to _The Cafe_.

He is in such high spirits that even the prospect of seeing the sullen teenage barista does not affect him. 

He swings the coffee shop door open with an uncharacteristic vigour and sequentially knocks into someone. The loud thud that follows sounds a lot like Phil’s spirits crashing. 

“I’m so sorry.. Oh my god, are you hurt-” Phil babbles. His joy, of course had to come with a price.

“No it’s fine-”

Phil finally looks up from where his eyes had fixated on the stain that had been left from the coffee and to the person’s face. He winces. There’s an attempt somewhere to hide his agape expression.

“I’m always wearing black so I’m lucky that the stain does not show and I ordered something not hot for the first time which is a change but at least I’m not burnt, and gosh I’m speaking a lot, aren’t I?”

Dan is still speaking. He looks nervous, Phil doesn’t understand why. His ramble melts into the background as Phil takes him in, for real. He looks a lot like the dream, something out of a fantasy, but more real and present. The first thing Phil notices is that Dan is tall, taller than him, even though he is slouching a lot. His hair does indeed match his own hairstyle, but wavier. He has got a pink cap on. For someone trying to disguise themselves, pink doesn’t seem like a good idea. Phil likes it though. He looks startled, his eyes wide and animated; he doesn’t look like someone, certainly not a celebrity who has coffee spilled over themselves by a stranger. It’s cute.

Phil blinks once, Dan looks like he waiting for an answer.

“L-Let me buy you another coffee please?” Phil hopes that he doesn’t sound as awkward as he does in his head. 

“You don’t need to, honestly,” Dan talks with his hands, Phil notices; his hand still clutching the cheap styrofoam cup swinging wildly. Wide gestures, fingers, delicate, all over the place. He looks at Phil right in the eye, which surprises him.

“Please, let me, I’ll feel better.” Phil ignores the image of Dan, somewhere far away coming to haunt him.

Dan smiles. It is eerie, seeing that smile again in such a short time span, now more solid. It’s the same smile, but it is also not. His lips are quirked up more, his eyes reflect that smile too. “Sure, but let me buy you one too.” 

Phil replies with a shrug, trying to act nonchalant.

He trips on a chair on the way to the counter. From the corner of his eyes, he sees Dan suppress a laugh. He is thankful for that. A bruise on his shin is worth it if it makes Dan Howell smile.

Phil orders his usual and turns to look at Dan Howell, who is looking at him strangely. He quickly turns to the barista like he had been caught doing something he shouldn’t have been doing. “Strange,” Phil thinks to himself, but he knows from experience to not question celebrities’ habits.

“A caramel macchiato, thanks.” he says, keeping his head low. The British accent is weird to hear, pleasant. He only hears it from his mum, who to her own dismay is losing it. It reminds him of places, people, from what seemed like a past life. 

“You don’t look like a simple macchiato guy,” Phil said. He rakes his eyes over Dan’s outfit. Tight black jeans and a leather jacket. 

Dan seems to consider his statement.

A pause.

The silence, except for the odd whirring of the machine had made him nervous. He wants to take the words back now, steal them from the small space of air between them. 

“That just means you have a lot to learn,” Dan raises his eyebrow. He seems to have regained his composure.

The small space of air, now vibrating with Dan’s words seems smaller now, a lot like flirting. 

They make their way silently to the tables; he is following Dan, who ends up sitting at Phil’s spot.

“So I don’t want to assume..” Dan begins as he sits opposite of him, “But you do know who I am, right?” He raises the coffee cup to his mouth and takes a little sip, looking straight into Phil’s eyes. He has nice, delicate fingers.

“Yes. Don’t let my initial reaction fracture your ego. You and well, other actors are indeed well-known around here.” Phil is surprised at himself.

“That’s good to know,” Dan leans forward, it would have not been noticeable but Phil tracks every one of Dan’s motions. It is involuntary. “But that means I’m not the first you’ve encountered.”

The conversation seems fragile, electric. He is walking on a tightrope, moving forward, swaying forward. He can fall down any second, but he moves ahead. He is aware of everything around him, his senses heightened. 

Phil mirrors his movements. “You could say that.” He sips at his coffee, trying to mask the sudden burn he feels on his tongue. Too hot. Still looking at Dan.

He had always heard about brown eyes being appreciated when light fell on them, rendering them gold. But as he felt pinned down by Dan’s gaze, he saw allure in how dark they turned, almost black, dark enough to pull him. They left him speechless. He could feel his eyes getting wider as Dan and him continued to stare.

Dan coughs. Phil looks away, sheepishly drinking his coffee in order to hide his blush. 

“So, besides buying hot guys hot coffee, what do you do?” He keeps his elbows on the table, an invitation.

“Uhmm… you know, buy hot girls hot coffee.”

Dan erupts into a laugh. A wave of satisfaction passes through Phil. He hides his smile behind the coffee cup. Dan has made him pull down his walls, open himself more. HIs tongue feels more loose, the space between his ribs feel airy, free somehow.

He can hear the muffled chatter of people milling around the cafe. The sun makes everything look hazy and golden. It is pleasant. Dan’s laugh has made him feel like the same sunlight is shining inside him. Gold and bright.

“When you’re not being a barista then, what do you d-”

Phil’s phone rings. Sanam, his first thought. 

“PHIL LESTER WHERE ARE YOU”

Phil jerks. His eyes squint but he can make out the quizzical expression on Dan’s face.

“I’m coming.” Phil jumps from his chair. “Sorry- sorry, stop screaming. I’m coming.”

“I gotta go. It was nice meeting you, Dan Howell.”

He feels a lot like Cinderella, except there is no Prince. He’s running away from a fantasy now, from a face that’s pretty and words that are sweet. He wants to tear down the last shred of hope that has taken the form of his fast beating heart. Hope is the only thing stronger than fear, he sees now why.

He rushes outside with the same velocity he had entered. He doesn’t turn around for a last look, he doesn’t need to. He knows Dan’s eyes are on his back.

 

*

 

“You said what?” Sanam sounds incredulous.

Phil doesn’t understand the disbelief.

“I just said what I said. Also we really need to work on your volume.” Phil is exasperated. Hanging out with Sanam, though very enjoyable, always ends up in attracting a lot of attention.

“You mean to say you to told Dan Howell, celebrity extraordinaire, your crush, it was nice meeting you and left. No exchange of numbers, no nothing!”

“If you put it that way…” Phil trails off. “And he is not my crush.”

“There is no that way. That’s what you did.” She folds her arms, giving him a long stare. Phil gulps. “Not your crush, my foot. And he was clearly into you!”

Phil’s cheeks flush. “How do you know he was into me. Stop spinning stories.”

“Because Dan Howell sits down to have coffee with every guy that offers, yeah right.” 

Phil feels defeated. There is a part of him that is pleased to be defeated. Defeat is a lot like hope again.

He touches his hair sheepishly. Sanam’s glare has turned into something fond, a look he reckons his sister would give him if he had had one. Sanam is right; Dan Howell had coffee with him and Phil had managed to keep his calm. 

There is a flash of thought. What did Dan think of the encounter. Did Dan leave shortly after him, or is he sitting there, with coffee that’s lukewarm now.

“Well it’s no use to cry over spilt milk now, it’s not like I’m going to see him again, ever,” Phil said. 

“Not see who?”

Phil turns around. He senses Sanam grinning wildly beside him. 

“M-My math teacher. I hated him. He had this weird moustache that made him look like a child kidnapper. I’m glad that I don’t have to see him ever.” Phil is rambling

It’s unsettling to see him again, with the mirror image of his own hair, teeth wide and showing, again. (Unsettling is one word. Not the only one.)

Dan chuckles. “I’m happy for you, Phil, right?” Phil nods. He is unsure of what he has to do.

“I didn’t expect to see you here, you’re not stalking me, are you?” Dan raises his eyebrow, the action makes him feel better, but only a little because he can’t see the smile in his eyes.

“N-No not at all! I was here with-”

“He is here because of me,” Sanam steps forward, extending a hard towards Dan. “I’m one of the back-up dancers today. Can I say, I’m really excited to have this opportunity.”

Dan looks at Sanam’s outstretched hand and then at Phil, his eyebrow still raised. He smiles and shakes her hand.

“I’m excited as well.” Dan’s hand is clutching Sanam’s but his eyes are on Phil. “Very excited.”

Dan walks away, now leaving Phil gaping at Dan’s back.

 

*

 

Phil has always loved the buzzing in the atmosphere before a shoot begins. It’s electric, the air. People rushing around with a purpose in their steps, the actors getting ready for the shoot, interns shrugging off their nerves, directors screaming; Phil loves the mood. That’s what has made him stick to the industry despite everything.

He waves at Sanam standing behind Dan Howell. She looks incredibly confident. Dances are rare in Hollywood; he remembers Sanam talking fondly about Bollywood and the music and dance in those movies. She talks about the charm in those films and he can see the sparkle in her eyes. 

“Action!”

Sanam moves with a drive that is inspiring just to watch. She is behind an actor, but she commands respect. He might be biased, but Sanam’s presence fills the shot.

They move a lot throughout the shoot, changing scenes. Phil catches himself staring at Dan Howell a few times. He is a great dancer, Phil did not expect that seeing how tall he is. His moves are smooth, like they are cutting the air. 

But Phil is there for Sanam.

“So how am I doing?” Sanam asks. She is panting, but she is glowing. Phil hands her a bottle of juice.

“Incredible. Like I knew you would. It’s not even a question!”

“Are you saying that because you were busy staring at Dan Howell?”

 

Phil places his hand over his heart, “You wound me Sanam, thinking I would be looking at anyone other than you dancing.”

Sanam wipes the juice from her upper lip. Her eyebrows were raised comically. “Okay, I believe you.”

“Dancers! Assemble!”

“But he does look good while dancing.” Phil says.

“Ha! You finally admit it,” Sanam shouts, running towards the makeup area.

Phil raises his arms in a sign of surrender, but he’s laughing. He’s a terrible liar anyway.

And it’s not everyday that a fantasy follows you.

 

*

 

Everyone erupts with cheers. It has been a successful day of shooting with the back up dancers. Phil can see that the director is happy with the result. There is just one scene left to shoot. Dan’s solo dance.

LA evenings are beautiful. The sky is a beautiful shade of purple and pink. There is a soft summer breeze caressing Phil’s hair. He’s stood with Sanam outside of the buzz waiting for Dan to start shooting. He is excited to see Dan bring to life a dance. He had been incredibly humble on the set, surprising him. He even smiled at Phil on two separate occasions that made Phil avert his eyes and his cheeks flush. He really hopes that the flush isn’t visible from far away.

The cinematographer has done an extraordinary job with the setting of the scene. There were vintage cars and palm trees in the backdrop. Dan Howell takes his place in the middle of the buzz, looking poised and collected. 

“Action!”

Dan Howell dances like he is bending the air around him. He glides smoothly, his arms are cutting through glass. It almost looks like he is the one creating the rhythm, controlling the music. He hears Sanam gasp, but it is like listening to something far away. His world narrows down to Dan Howell. 

Phil is not an expert at dancing, but he knows passion. And Dan Howell is passionate. His mouth is set in a hard focused line, a smile erupting in between. But his eyes are where the emotions are held. Even from far away, he can sense the amount of love he is pouring into every one of his motions. All of the talks of Dan Howell being the most dedicated of his peers are affirmed.

The music dies down. Dan Howell ends his choreography with a pose, his right arm raised above his head. He is smiling, all teeth. A shiver runs down Phil’s spine.

“Cut!” The director sounds impressed. Dan Howell had managed to shoot the entire sequence in one go.

The set is still quiet, but there is an energy in the atmosphere. Phil looks at Sanam, who is already looking at him.

“Wow,” she whispers. 

“I did not expect that,” Phil replies. He is whispering too, he feels he needs to, so as to not disturb the atmosphere.

“So what did you expect?”

“I don’t know- I guess, just more casual Dan Howell. I never thought those magazines were right. Like, he is dedicated and passionate and deserves all the fame he is getting.”

“High praises coming from you Lester,” Sanam starts walking around the set now, at ease now that the shoot is a success. 

Phil follows her, “Uhmm yeah there’s no point denying that he’s hard working…”

“And…”

Phil knows what she wants to hear.

“O-Okay I like him. Happy?”

Sanam stops walking, turns to Phil and smiles. “Was that so hard now.” 

“It was hard, Sanam. Of course that was hard.” The words hold a bit of joke, but only a bit.

“Now I just have to get over him, which will not be as difficult because I won’t have to see him again, ever.”

“You talk an awful lot about your math teacher, though you claim to hate him.” There is a knowing glint in Dan Howell’s eyes.

“I feel that you’re stalking me now.” Phil wants to change the topic.

“Yeah, I’m stalking you on my own set. You caught me.”

Phil laughs. It comes from the throat, starting as glass, fake, but it turns into diamonds, so much more real. It’s okay because Dan Howell, standing in front of him is grinning too.

“Actually, I am here to talk to your fr-” He traces his eyes to where Sanam is holding his hand. 

“Y-Yeah my friend.” Phil is too quick to add that.

“Right,” Dan turns his attention towards a confused Sanam. “The director is very impressed with you, and honestly I am too. So he wants you tomorrow to head the children’s dance shoot. Congratulations.”

With that and a nod towards Phil’s direction, he jogs away from them. Phil doesn’t feel like Cinderella anymore.

 

*

 

“You don’t need to come with me Phil.”

“But I do Sanam, moral support.”

‘You just want to see Dan. Say it like what it is, mate.”

“Firstly, don’t mate me,” he says, and Sanam wrinkles her nose. Phil continues nonetheless. “And don’t you understand the concept of support, dear best friend.”

“Best friend and mate is the same thing, Phil ‘bad innuendoes’ Lester.”

“Best friend and mate is not the same thing. As a British person, I am offended.”

“As someone whose first language is not English, I don’t care,” she retorts.

“But I’m coming with you, there are literally no downsides to me accompanying you.”

“And what are the upsides?”

Phil skips ahead of Sanam, opens his arms wide and turns to her. “You, me, beneath the LA sky, chasing dreams.”

“Yeah, me chasing the dream, you chasing the D.”

“HEY!”

*

Dan is pacing, the sound of his shoes on the hard wooden floor reverberate throughout the room. In the background, he can hear Louise talking. She speaks very loudly, in a manner that suggests that she herself doesn’t know how loud she’s being. But she is an angel, and British. For which Dan is very thankful for. He finds American accents way too nasally, annoying. London can be dreary, but it’s nice to be reminded of murky skies and rain; even if it is through the way words are pronounced.

Louise, his personal manager is talking to other managers. He doesn’t quite understand this part of the industry. He knows how to act, he knows he’s bloody good at that. She has been with him from the very start of his career. She was persistent and determined. “I’m going to make you a star,” she had said on the phone. That was after she had seen the first role he had landed, an ad for a juice company. He had hired her on the spot, partly for the utmost sincerity in her words and partly for her accent.

The film that he is working on now, has been for the past year, is already in the process of post-production. The scene he shot yesterday, was just for a promo piece and credit shots. It’s deceiving, he feels, it doesn’t settle with him the right way. The audience laps it up, though. That should be enough. But it isn’t.

You have to learn to lie with a smile, learn to be crooked, everyone who he meets with has the same advice for him. But stripping off actual emotions and creating new ones are what he does for a living. He’s afraid that when he has to be himself, there will be nothing.

“Okay, sure, I understand. I’ll convey it to him. Thanks for the help.”

Post-production period is supposed to be a fun period for actors; loads of interviews, photoshoots, tv shows. But there is a tightness in Louise’s voice that casts clouds, akin to London’s over his shoulders. It weighs him down. 

Louise clears her throat, there’s an unnerving finality to all of this. It brews in his stomach, making him sick, nauseous.

“We have to agree to the PR team, Dan. They think-” her eyes stray away from his face, “-I think that’s your only best option. It’s ugly, I’m sorry.”

At least she sounds sympathetic. Dan is grateful for that.

There is a moment, a small one between the words registering and they sinking in. He sees a flash of blue eyes, hears a giggle. There is a discernible click in his brain. He takes a step back, shoulders slump, sits on a chair nearby.

“Okay, whatever.”

He can't recognize his voice. 

Maybe there was nothing from the beginning.

 

*

 

The children are very sweet, talented. Sanam is a natural among them, instructing them and playing and teasing with them. He goes out momentarily, buys juice boxes, hands them out. The set, the same as yesterday, carries a lightness around it. The crew speaks gently, he walks with a bounce, everyone smiles a little wider.

The music feels too loud as he stands on the sidelines. He’s been with the industry long enough to know that the scenes will end in promo. It’s sad and dishonest, he feels, but right now, the children’s eyes are shining and that’s all that matters.

Despite what he told himself, he finds himself looking away from the set. Looking for someone. It’s weird, this crush. All he wants is to get over it, get over Dan Howell. He was lucky, he tells himself. By a series of random coincidences, he crossed paths with him. And whatever conversation he had with him was just good nature on Dan’s part. But snippets of his talk with him keep popping in his mind. If he thinks hard enough, Dan's voice is fresh, a mere memory away. His laugh, clear and bright is untouched and preserved memory.

But all he wants is to get over him, that’s it. To get the dark eyes, the images of long, delicate fingers that seem to be ingrained in his mind out. It’s thrilling, this feeling, of brushing close to someone he has an obsession with. Especially when there is a fear that comes with the feeling too. It’s addicting.

He guesses all infatuations are like that. Addicting and heady. And dangerous.

*

The sky is a mix of pinks and purples and oranges. It was Sanam who had asked him to look up and see the sky with a soft smile. She was speaking softly after the shoot, she had her eyebrows furrowed with worry. The sight reminded him of his mum. 

He walked with her to her home, chatting the way best friends do. 

Now, he crosses the place of the shoot as he walks towards home. It looks eerie without the people milling around, like it is not be a real place, but just a poster on the wall of an artist. 

He looks at the sky again, it’s pretty with different colours coming together. The dark and light of different shades attempt to settle the storm in his stomach. It matches the extremes of his thoughts. He’s thinking about this too much, exaggerating a lot of these things. It’s just a crush, he wants to tell himself. On a celebrity, nonetheless. It’s nothing, but at the same time, it’s a lot of things.

His pace is slow, he’s kicking a stone he found on the sidewalk as he trudges forward. It’s like whatever is in his mind is weighing him down, slowing him down. He feels dramatic. 

There is a shadow of a man leaning on a wall lining the sidewalk. He can’t help but feel familiarity in the silhouette, leaning casually, obviously wearing a jacket. Even his eyes are trying to deceive him.

“Hi,” The voice is soft and hesitant. He jumps, he can hear his heart beating.

“Is the stalking joke too used up now?” Phil feels shy. The sky is turning dark, the purples and pinks of the sky eventually dissolving to black. It casts a blanket of haze around his words. This shyness, stuttering around words is new. It’s difficult to make eye contact with Dan Howell.

Dan laughs, a quiet shaking of shoulders and hand covering his mouth. Almost unnoticeable. Almost.

“Yes,” A pause. A car zooms by. “So how are yo-”

“You weren’t on the shoot today,” Phil wants to bite his tongue, but under the moonlight, heavy words are laced with a lightness.

Dan is not looking at him. Phil plays with the stone that he carried with him, casually. His hands are in the pocket. The moon makes the curls in his hair glow. It should look eerie, but Dan Howell, present, in front of him, looks quite like the dream Dan Howell.

“Yeah. I wanted to be there, meet the kids. And Sanam.” He finally looks at him. “And you, actually, but wasn’t sure if you would be there.”

Phil’s ears are burning. “Of course, I was there.” he refuses the urge to look down and smile widely. “For Sanam,” he adds instead, hurriedly.

“Yeah, for Sanam obviously.”

Phil looks for a smirk, but the expression is _sheepishness_. It’s endearing and refreshing. 

“I was wondering…” Dan is touching his hair, teasing the words out of himself. This, surrounded by the darkness makes every action look genuine. This is not Dan Howell on a cover magazine, not the Dan Howell in Phil’s dream; this is the Dan Howell that stands in front of him and stumbles with words.

“I was wondering if you would like to come to a party at my house tomorrow? It’s a little gathering with friends, some industry people, nothing much. There’s probably going to be pizza and sadly, expensive liquor that doesn’t quite justify the price, but hey pizza. I mean it’s upto you, but I would really like if you would come, it’ll be fun.”

“Dan, Dan, of course I’ll come, I can’t actually reject an invitation from Dan Howell, can I?”

Dan’s face falls. He steps back, just a small step. It’s instant, like a volatile chemical reaction, letting sodium sit in air for a second and flames. 

“Oh, then you don’t need to come if you can’t reject me because you think I’m a celebrity or something-” His voice is throaty.

“Dan, I was joking!” Phil cuts his rambling. “I would absolutely love to come to the party and it’s a cardinal sin to refuse free pizza but even a bigger sin to refuse great company.”

“ _Oh my god_ , Phil,” Dan hits him on the shoulder, friendly, casual. But the action brings them closer. Dan looks more reachable this close. “Am I the good company you’re talking about?”

“We’ll find out about that.”

“Why was I expecting anything different than that when it’s you, Phil, of course we’ll find out in the party,” Dan laughs. 

Mirth is contagious, Phil discovers. ‘When it’s you Phil’ is swimming in his head, incessant.

“I’ll text you the details.”

“You have my number?”

“Gotta keep that stalking joke running somehow. Well, Sanam. I got it from her.”

“Oh, okay,” Phil says.

“Yeah. goodnight and sweet dreams, Phil.”

For a beat, he smiles at Phil and there's almost something akin to a wistful sadness on his face. Maybe it’s the absence of light that adds the wistfulness, Phil doesn’t know. But it makes his heart grow heavy.

Dan waves and sets to wherever he goes. Hands in his pockets and a gait that is slow.

 

Phil texts _‘I’ll be there’_ followed by a pizza and a boar emoji. He gets back a sparkle emoji and two exclamation marks. He keeps his phone down and resists the urge to text him about his favourite emoji.

 

*

 

Dressing for a party is tough, dressing for a party that your crush who is also a celebrity invited you to, is downright stressful. Phil and Sanam have three combined breakdowns over Snapchat before Phil finds himself standing before the mirror in his hastily ironed blue corgi button-down and the good pair of black jeans that hugs his butt more firmly. He’s fiddling with his hair more than necessary to prolong the process of getting ready. He knows he looks good. He’s wearing his glasses, black and chunky instead of contacts and he knows his ensemble will turn heads, if only a few.

He hops into a florist shop before making his way to Dan Howell’s place. Repeating the phrase in his brain doesn’t make it less surreal than it is.

He knocks on the door, there’s music, not loud but not quite soft as he’d expected, coming from inside. There’s quite a university feel to the party, or he thinks that because those are the only parties he’s attended. He just hopes it doesn’t smell of beer and vomit if his memory is any good.

Phil is surprised to see Dan open the door. His face lights up as he sees Phil.

“Phil! You came!”

“The boar emoji never lies Dan,” he replies as he goes in for a hug.

Phil is shocked to hear the genuine surprise and delight radiate off Dan’s voice and face as he sees him. He looks very good, of course Dan Howell looks good. He’s in a button down like himself, but white with black constellations running on the sides. His collar is open showing very visible collar bones. His hair is curly, artistically messy. He’s gorgeous.

“I brought you some flowers.”

Dan takes them from his hand, looks at them for a few seconds and back at Phil in wonder. 

“I don’t know your favourite flowers so i just got a mix bunch.

“I don’t know what my favourite flower is.”

It is not the response he was expecting.

“Uhmm- Now you can choose one or more.”

“I will.”

Dan wanders off after that, giving Phil a smile and asking him to get a drink. Phil strolls off, nursing a glass of the sweetest cocktail they had. The house is huge, he had prepared or that. But there is grandeur in the house that he had not prepared for. Everything is gold and white and brown, a colour scheme he would not choose but appreciates nonetheless. He would have liked some more colours, somewhere. But it feels too aloof, there is an obvious personal touch there is missing. The framed paintings are what go with the theme, but they don’t feel ‘Dan’. He’s only in the living room, but there is a place for family photos that’s not filled. It is a house, alright, but it doesn’t feel like a home.

The only light is coming from a huge chandelier in the middle, made of all crystal. It gives the place the dim lighting that feels like is coming from the marble floor and bouncing off the people mingling around. Gold and faint, this atmosphere somehow doesn’t make him anxious. Even among the crowd, among the background talks, he feels unruffled.

He sees faces that belong on newspapers and magazine covers. The charm of seeing these people has faded. They are people, with good and ugly sides. Absolutely human. But they are made to look unattainable and he has been a part of the effort that does that. There is Dan among them, flitting around like a butterfly, going from group to group, smiling close mouthed, nodding, courteous.

Phil spots PJ, an old friend and now a director. He’s wearing a hoodie and jeans; Phil feels he has seen the same hoodie in a different setting. He talks with PJ, and is briefly inspired. He has an aura of crazy energy; he is an enigma bursting with talent. Idle chat is easy, going over old anecdotes, questions about future (which he deftly ignores, a practiced art), talk of creative projects. By the time PJ is pulled over by someone, Sophie if he remembers correctly, Phil is positively buzzing; with the alcohol from the too sweet cocktail and a vivacity that only comes after a good laugh and talk. But buried beneath all that energy is a longing, to chase something, an art he never ran after. To fulfill a craving so suppressed he has forgotten about its existence.

Socializing is easy after that. He laughs with people whose faces he’s likely to forget at the end of the evening. He gives opinions about movies, attempts to impress people with trivia he’s read on 2am Wikipedia browse sessions. He misses a presence beside him though, sees him through the corner of the eye moving around, nodding his head at intervals, talking at length or just listening.

The music softens; he finishes another drink and eats two slices of pizza. He feels strangely fulfilled and strangely like an adult accomplishing a task. There’s the feeling of post-laughter, bubbly in his stomach. He goes for a third slice when Dan Howell is there beside him.

“Adult things I was not prepared for, organizing a party. It feels like my socializing energy is drained out and anymore talk will directly reduce my lifespan.”

“So is this talk doing that?” Phil speaks as he struggles with mozzarella.

“Nah mate, this and pizza will probably replenish that energy bar.” He picks up a slice and starts attacking it.

“Well, I am flattered.” Phil’s voice is playful but he means it. In the brief time that he has talked with Dan, there is something grounding about it.

“Hey, in all seriousness, I’m sorry for inviting you and kinda ditching you.”

“It was fine and probably good for me. I need to start talking to more people and that crap.”

“Honestly, same.”

Phil’s eyes crinkle. “Yeah and I ran into my friend PJ, didn’t know you were close.”

“You know PJ! I wish we were close, I’m just a huge fan of his work and I kinda wanna do a film with him. So this is just a ruse.”

“That makes you Gatsby, and PJ, Daisy.”

“I think you’re Daisy, Phil,” Dan’s eyes darken impossibly. He gulps, “Want to get out of here? W-Wait, that sounds like we’ll fuck. I mean there’s like a pool outside that we can hang out near.”

Phil’s ears are ringing with how breathy the word _“fuck”_ sounds when Dan says it. A hot tingle passes through his groin. He subconsciously inches closer.

Clearing his throat, he says, “how can I say no to Dan Howell,” instead. He earns a shoulder bump and a chuckle.

 

*

 

They have rolled up their jeans and are sitting, thighs touching with legs dangling in the water.

They are passing a wine bottle between them that Dan had picked up from the ‘gifts table’. “It looks the cheapest so it’ll probably taste good.”

“Are you ditching your own party?”

“I’ve done enough socializing for a lifetime. Spare me.”

Phil bumps his shoulder in lieu of an answer.

“And Daisy came, so I win the game.”

There is a slight breeze; it touches Phil’s heated face. The party, the music seems far away. They are the center of everything and the rest of the world is just a background.

There is an urge to change the topic. Phil asks, “Did you choose your favourite flower, then?”

“What’s your favourite?”

“Roses, I guess. They’re a classic.”

“So, roses are my favourite too,” Dan replies easily.

“That’s not fair.”

“No, I trust your taste. And everything is fair…”

“That’s really not how it works. But I’ll leave you if you promise to give me an answer later.”

“You’ll have to meet me later then.”

“I wouldn’t be opposed to that, actually.”

Dan gives him a small smile and then he’s looking at the pool, smile still intact. Phil wonders if Dan even knows he’s smiling. It looks good on him. It’s dark out now but the light from the party falls on Dan’s profile, a galaxy. His eyes turn honey, almost gold like. He remembers dark eyes from the cafe, but this, this lightness of his eyes, Phil discovers, is his favourite.

“I know you’re staring, Phil.”

“And do you have a problem with that?” Phil asks as Dan turns to look at him.

“No, actually.”

The candor catches him off guard, even after everything.

They talk. Phil hears Dan’s extensive opinion Kanye West as he gazes at the light forming glimmers on the pool. He adds little quips that make Dan laugh and make Phil’s chest swell with a little something like pride and a lot like happiness. They argue over the last season of The Walking Dead and Phil revels in the fact that he sees Dan like this, loud and opinionated and a little more Dan, a lot less Dan Howell.

“You just watch Free! because of the cute boys.”

“LIke hell you don’t, Phil, why would you say that otherwise?”

They move from anime to anime, Dan complains that making films means that he can’t watch a lot of them. Phil then rightly goes on length about his opinions on the oscar nominated films that didn’t deserve the nomination.

There is a little bubble that surrounds them. He sees people leaving the house and feels a little bad (a little) for keeping Dan to himself. His legs are cold where they are in the water but his being is very warm. The place where he is touching Dan feels tingly. There is a quiet that settles over them, comfortable and content. 

“I bet I can beat you at Mario Kart.” Dan breaks the silence. 

“Oh oh, Mr. Dan Howell, you are so wrong.”

“So, prove it.”

Dan’s voice is syrupy, slow and thick with a feeling that has settled behind his ribs.

“Maybe I will.”

 

He kisses Dan. A slight touch of the lips, barely there, a flutter. A shy look and then Dan is pulling him by his neck and kissing him again, fiercer this time. He clutches Dan’s shirt. Dan smells like faded perfume that makes his head spin. His lips are slightly chapped, Phil feels like he is trembling under the shiver that goes down his spine. Wherever they touch, Dan’s hands that tangle in his hair and rest on his neck, Phil roaming his hands up and down Dan’s sides, their lips gliding over; it feels hot. 

“This was great and all, but you owe me a Mario Kart game.” Dan says against his lips.

“Yeah, this was great but Mario Kart will be better.” Phil smiles, his eyes are still closed

“Oh shit, that means I gotta practice.” 

“The kissing or Mario Kart?” Dan is giggling now.

Phil feels golden, like the light that is dancing on the pool.

“Whichever one involves kissing you more.”

 

*

 

**From: Dan**

_i’m glad that instead of binging netflix, i actually threw a party, if only for PJ_

**From: Dan**

_lol jk_

**From: Dan**

_btw, good morning!_

**From: Phil**

_Good Morning XD_

**From: Dan**

_omg you didn’t just XD me_

**From: Dan**

idk if that’s cringy or adorable __

From: Phi  
l  
It’s adorable in the morning, not so much after coffee __

**From: Dan**

So you’ve not had your coffee dose __

**From: Phil**

_No :( I’m just in bed_

**From: Dan**

_;))))_

**From: Phil**

_STOP_

**From: Dan**

_;))))_

**From: Phil**

_I’m blocking you_

**From: Phil**

_Did you have your coffee dose?_

**From: Dan**

_excuse me, i’m british i have tea_

**From: Dan**

_but i wouldn’t mind one ridiculous coffee that’s more sugar than coffee_

**From: Phil**

_Wanna meet at the The Cafe?_

**From: Dan**

_it’s a date :)_

 

Phil promptly buries his head in a pillow and squeals.

 

*

Phil is sitting in the corner of _The Cafe_. He’s jumping from app to app, trying to distract himself and trying to keep his anxiety at minimum. He has downed a cup of coffee, decaf, waiting for Dan to have caffeine. That, in itself, seems to be special.

The dynamics have changed now. There is a change in their relationship, but there is also a question hanging in the air now. He fears the reaction, but the reaction can’t come fast enough. There is too much uncertainty.

The door opens and his head turns. It’s an old lady with a cat (he’s pretty sure cats aren’t allowed here). He ducks to hide his red face. _“Keep it together, Phil,_ ” he tells himself. “You are not letting this be like a repeat of high school.” The door opens again, this time Phil keeps his resolve. His eyes are on his phone, his home screen to be specific. There is a shuffling around him, but he keeps his eyes on his phone, a little pink-faced.

“You’re not even going to greet me?”

Phil involuntarily jerks up. “Oh, hi!”

Dan puts down two drinks, a steaming cup of black liquid (his usual), and an obnoxious cup of white froth.

“Thanks,” he murmurs as he picks up his own cup and takes a sip. The caffeine is as good as seeing Dan Howell in the morning.

“So you said you don’t drink coffee, and yet you ordered a macchiato last time we were here.”

Dan smiles, a little pink. “That’s because you offered to buy me coffee and I didn’t want to sound obnoxious.”

“Oh,” Phil is taken aback.

“Anyway, I love your Dan-centric memory.”

“Hey, you remembered my drink!” Phil exclaims, but he is blushing.

“Mostly because it was the most basic thing on the menu, you basic bitch,” Dan adds with a chuckle.

“So are we close enough to call each other bitch, you bitch?”

“I would hope so after I had your tongue down my throat.”

Phil gasps, a mocking sound. “I did not do that, I am a classy man.”

“Yeah, well let me tell you classy, Phil. You are not classy after a drink and my lips on yours.”

Phil hides his grin by taking a huge gulp of his coffee. Dan is so loud with his words, all his talks packaged with honesty. It’s ridiculously endearing, seeing someone be so open and vehement with words. Phil wants to hear more. 

“So what did you do today?” Phil starts.

“Are you going to hate me if I say I exercised?”

“Yes of course, I hate you a teeny bit already for bringing up exercise.”

 

“In that case, I ate doughnuts.” Dan stretches the word doughnuts like it pains him to say it.

Phil laughs. “I like that answer, yeah.” He’s silent for a second. “No, but seriously when was the last time you ate doughnuts?”

Dan moans. There is an unwanted shiver that runs down Phil’s spine. 

“Please don’t bring that up unless you want to see me cry. I had a doughnut probably two years ago and I think about it everyday. I hope there are people out there that really, really appreciate my abs because of all the fucking doughnuts that I’ve missed.”

“I appreciate your abs.”

“Phil, dear, I really like you but I’d rather have a doughnut.”

“So what about the sugar you’re drinking?”

“Let’s not go into that, my trainer is a weirdo with masculinity issues.”

The conversation flows easily and time passes slowly like the condensation that trickles down Dan’s cold drink. Phil’s face hurts from smiling, he gets a chance to see Dan’s smile wrinkles in full glory. It’s surreal to place Dan in a place he visits everyday, it’s like the colliding of two worlds. Under the light of the day, last night doesn’t seem like another dream.

Dan pouts, “I gotta go, I kinda just came here without telling anyone. People are going to get mad.”

“Sad to say goodbye but okay to see you go.”

“ _Oh my god_ , Phil, at least use the right phrase, you nerd!” 

“You love it anyway,” Phil’s voice is thick with affection. He leans over and kisses Dan on the cheek, lingering for a second.

Phil’s eyes widen as he settles in his seat. “I’m sorry, oops.” He hopes to sound sheepish.

“What’re you sorry for, I expect more since we’re dating.”

Phil is thrown for a second before a smile erupts on his face. “Oh really, and when did that happen?”

“Right after you kissed my cheek, you spoon.”

“Anyway I really gotta hurry,” he gets up and presses a quick to Phil’s forehead, a little too quick for Phil’s liking, “see you later, babe.”

Dan leaves in a flurry, pulling a stupid beanie down on his face. Phil is left staring at the lukewarm coffee left in his cup, as his heart flutters at “babe”.

*

 

Phil works, hopping from film set to film set, working odd jobs here and there. He texts Dan in the day and talks to him at night. It’s a good system, one that keeps Phil content and the air around him light.

Phil quickly discovers certain things about Dan:

He always texts in lowercase and refuses to entertain Phil’s love for emojis even though Phil knows Dan likes them too, because of a lot of slip-ups involving various heart emojis.  
He hates meetings and business stuff and texts him non-stop during those.  
But when he shoots, he practically disappears, jumping into the role with a seriousness that could match the Queen’s. (Phil is glad that the shooting sessions are sparse in the promo part of the film).  
His voice goes uncharacteristically high-pitched when he argues, mostly about the best cereal and the latest season of various anime. It follows with a laugh that sends ripple even through the phone, warming Phil.  
Phil learns that some pauses mean huge smiles on Dan’s part. It’s not difficult to imagine the twinkle in his eyes and the crinkles around his eyes.  
When it gets dark and they are supposed to be sleeping but can’t get off the phone, and tiredness caresses their eyes to close, Dan’s voice gets deeper and thicker. It’s very pleasant.

And they go on dates. They’re precious, like the time they spend together. They go to museums and aquariums. Dan dresses up always, even when he only wears grey joggers. Dan talks a lot about the places they go to, so interested and captivated with everything. Phil makes up ridiculous facts to see Dan laugh loudly. He takes a lot of pictures of him, hidden in album he names with a heart emoji. Dan finally eats a doughnut and proceeds to talk about it for the entire trip. It’s all worth it when they shuffle to a corner and Dan kisses him against a wall, slow and maudlin and Phil can taste the strawberry from the doughnut.

They are the subject of stares, of course they are. Dan’s beanie can’t hide them from the press. Dan’s glares keep they away from their face but they are always there, lurking. 

But Phil smiles and walks with a beat because he is happy. And he deserves it, they deserve it. There are parts of his face plastered on tabloids, but no matter how pixelated, they capture both of their smiles. It makes him a little uneasy, but then Dan kisses his cheek and shares a little trivia about dinosaurs and Phil is okay again.

*

 

“Phil, how are you, you asshole. You forgot about me after Dan, didn’t you?” Sanam is dynamic, even through the phone.

“How dare you insinuate that, I’m hurt.”

“Anyway, what base have you gotten to?” After a pause, “are the abs real?”

“I don’t kiss and tell, madam. And yeah the abs are real, what did you think?”

“I don’t know man, okay so no second base, impressive. Dan is classy, because I know you are one raunchy man.”

“I am not,” he replies indignantly

“Need I remind you of what happened the last time we went to a club together?”

Phil coughs, “Okay moving on, what are you up to?”

“You know you can’t just say moving on and expect me to move on. But I’ve been floating from dance institute to institute teaching a lot of confused white people kathak. And spying to infiltrate the Hollywood industry, obviously.” She adds the last bit and Phil can hear her eye roll.

“But that’s not what I called for Phil.”

“So you didn’t call me to get any deets about Dan’s abs, I believe that.”

“Look, as the designated best friend, I have all the rights to juicy details. But all the fun aside, I’m concerned for you.”

“Sanam-”

“No, listen. We both know the industry. The tabloids have your face on them. There was a reason you had your no celebrity rule even when there was obviously no celebrity throwing themselves at you. I have every right to want you to be safe. I don’t know how Dan Howell is, all I know, you both would have two children in five years.”

Phil laughs.

“No really Phil. But if he turns out to be a dickhead, I want you to know that it’s him and you’re the best thing that ever happened to him and will happen to him even if he goes on to win an Oscar... but then I wouldn’t actually want him to win an Oscar.”

“I really don’t know what I would do without you.”

“Then it’s good that you have me and I’m the de facto right person always.”

“Also, I’m a confused white people, what the hell is kathak.”

Sanam groans dramatically. “You need so much education.”

Even long after Sanam feels satisfied with the amount she has spoken about kathak and Phil is left in awe, their previous conversation never leaves Phil’s mind. 

He keeps turning in his head, the pillow too uncomfortable and digging into his head, the steady tick-tock from the wall clock giving rise to turmoil in his stomach. He feels too much, thinks too much. After Sanam gave rise to the thought, he feels himself doubting his decision to ever break his rule. But Dan wouldn’t, would he? The absence of the answer to that question troubles Phil. There’s too much he doesn’t know. But Dan’s so nice. 

The demons are out to play anyway and Phil’s mind is plagued with them. Too many ifs and buts. 

Phil falls asleep with a frown on his face, clutching the pillow tightly.

 

*

 

Phil rings the bell door. It feels so different from the night at the party. He feels different.

Dan opens the door the next instant. “Hi! For a second I thought you would bail on me.”

Phil raises his finger and opens his mouth. 

“And shut up with the ‘how can I say no to Dan Howell’, I’ve had enough of your shit.”

Phil just giggles as he steps into the house because he was going to say the same thing. Also because Dan sounds way too fond for someone who says something so exasperated.

“Oh my god, you were going to say that! Why do I know you so well and how do I tolerate you?”

“Don’t lie, you love it.”

“Shut up,” Dan splutters.

“You know I’m actually quite nervous,” Dan says, pointing Phil towards the couch in front of the TV. Phil takes a seat.

“This is the first time someone’s over. I don’t wanna fuck up.” Dan is still standing, looming above Phil. He’s in a pair of tight skinny jeans and a jacket. Phil can barely see the t shirt, but it’s light pink. Phil wants to see more of that colour on Dan.

Phil’s face softens. “Dan, it’s just me.”

“Yeah, but I’m awkward as hell and what is etiquette.”

“Remember, we are two halves of a whole idiot. And sit down, I feel like you’re going to shout at me or something.”

Dan giggles but he sits down. “Funny, but did you just call me an idiot?”

“I called myself an idiot too.”

“Fair enough.”

Dan leans back into the sofa, stretches his arms and then slowly puts them over Phil’s shoulders. Phil smiles but decides not to acknowledge it. Instead he leans more into Dan.

“So what have you planned this evening, good sir?

“Are you mocking me? Well, then I’m gonna to wreck you at Mario Kart.”

“We’ll see who the wrecker is, Danny boy…. But are you really gonna play Mario Kart in a jacket?”

Dan looks down at himself and then at Phil. “I’ll be back in a minute.” As he rushes to the next room, he turns, “really, ‘Danny boy’?”

Phil just shrugs and gives a cheeky smile.

Phil taps his fingers on the edge of the couch as he waits for Dan. The living room looks even bigger without people and music filling it. Phil leans back and tries to relax his breathing. He’s nervous too. Of course he is. He is at Dan Howell’s house and coincidentally, he really likes Dan Howell. It’s different than running into each other and quick morning dates and it is definitely different than texting and talking over the phone. 

He can hear Dan bristling about in the other room. His face turns hot when he realizes he’s taking clothes off.

“Ow,” Dan groans.

“Are you alright Dan?”

“Yeah, just tall people problems.”

Dan emerges from the room in the pink shirt and a pair of joggers. He unceremoniously plops down beside Phil. 

“Happy?” he asks as he tilts his head to lay on Phil’s shoulder.

Dan looks so young like this. The pink colour brings out the pink of Dan’s skin. From this close, Phil can count Dan’s eyelashes, can see beginnings of freckles. Dan frowns at Phil.

“I am,” Phil bends down and kisses his nose, “very happy that you are comfortable, Dan.” He means to sound condescending but he’s smiling too much for that to happen.

Dan sticks his tongue out, “gross.” He gets up and sits facing Phil. “I’m dating a cheesy person.”

Phil leans in to kiss his cheeks, his chin, his forehead.

“And you don’t even like cheese,” Dan adds.

“Aww, you remembered that.”

“One does not recover from such hurt quickly, Phil Lester.”

“Okay, drama queen.” Phil presses a small kiss on his nose once again for good measure, “I thought someone was gonna wreck me at Mario Kart.” Dan gives in a smiles. There’ a dimple that Phil wants to kiss.

Dan jumps out of the couch immediately. “Oh just you wait. Mister, I am gonna destroy you.”

He goes abouts setting the controller. Phil can’t believe he can kiss Dan whenever he wants, can look at him unashamedly. More than all of that, he gets to hear Dan talk, unfiltered. It’s a privilege to be trusted, to be shown a vulnerable and open side of someone. No matter how many relationships he gets into, the newness of opening to someone, of letting someone in, gets to him.

There is familiar music playing, Phil doesn’t consider himself as a competitive person, but Mario Kart lights a fire within him. Maybe because that’s one thing he considers himself to be good at. He grabs the controller from Dan and tries to give him a menacing look. He’s sure he ends up looking weird, but Dan sends him a similar look.

“Dan, why are there marks on the controller?”

Dan looks sheepish as he settles beside Phil. “Oh, those. Uhm actually, I bite the controller during my video game rage.”

Dan is not looking at him, he’s concentration on the screen. But his cheeks look a little more pink. Phil allows himself to grin a little wider.

“You’re going down,” they say together and burst into laughter.

 

*

 

Dan beats him at almost every game. Phil, tries to hold his ground and wins three, out of the almost fifty they play (Dan insists it’s because Phil tickling him that he loses, Phil refuses to comment on the matter and accepts his victory for what it is, a victory).

Phil’s stomach hurts from laughing when they stop playing. His fingers ache from the sweet, familiar pain of playing for too long, his eyes hurt a little and there’s a hazy weariness over him. They have moved on from the couch to the floor and are sitting cross legged, knees barely touching. 

It’s late. Phil knows that if he goes and sits by the pool, he’ll see a few stars and there will be a light breeze. The night brings with itself a drowsiness that seeps in with time. Phil wants to revel in that.

“So, fun game?” Dan starts.

“Be glad I didn’t leave in the middle of one,” Phil is laughing, “how are you so good at this? No one has ever beat me before you. I’ll now have to reconsider all my future options.”

“Being an actor comes with a lot of lonely nights.”

“Come on, emo, let’s make mac and cheese.” Phil grabs Dan’s arm and attempts to lift him up. “Come on, abs guy! I can’t do all the work by myself.”

Dan complies and gets up with a grunt. “I thought you didn’t like cheese.”

“I eat mac and cheese with ketchup so it tastes kinda good.”

Dan makes a face, “you’re ridiculously gross, ugh.”

“We’re making it anyway. No nights are lonely with pasta and Phil.”

“That sounds like a porn title, Phil.”

“And what does that say about you, Dan?”

“Moral, moral, little Philly.”

 

*

 

Combining the cooking abilities of them both, they manage to make some fairly edible pasta. They both end up with noses splattered with cheese and wide smiles, almost as cheesy.

Dan pulls out a bottle of rosé from a cabinet whose pink matches the one splattered across Dan’s cheekbones. That pink alone intoxicates him.

As they walk over to the same spot by the pool from the night of the party, a quiet content, something akin to a silk blanket falls over them. They talk in hushed whispers, light as dandelions, voice low with sleepiness and time. Sharing time and space with someone has this effect on you; everything dwindles down to the space between you two and you strive to fill it with thoughts the other would appreciate. The simplicity of shared smiles is a treat. Sometimes you need to treasure it like the candy you hid in your bedside table as a child.

They take turns eating the mac and cheese from a shared bowl, half of which is covered with ketchup. Dan keeps commenting about it and Phil keeps laughing. Ease between them is tangible.

“I wish we could see more of the stars.” Phil’s voice is quiet.

“Yeah.”

“There is so much out there that we don’t know, will never know. and even the fraction of the universe we see is so pretty.”

“They’re pretty but they fill me with dread.”

Phil nudges Dan’s shoulder. “Why?”

“It just reminds of how small we are in the grand scheme of things. It makes me feel small, like my actions don’t matter. I’m just a tiny speck.”

Dan turns to Phil now, “I didn’t have a lot growing up and now that I do, I want to use my privilege for good. And this just reminds me of how no matter what I do; it doesn’t really affect the order.”

“It does affect the people you end up helping. It makes their universes better. Isn’t that enough?”

“I guess it could be if I stop spiraling and looking at all my actions through some kind of goody two shoes lens.”

“You’re way too hard on yourself Dan,” Phil’s voice goes almost inaudible, “At least you’re doing something you love.”

‘What do you mean?”

“I mean, you are doing something you clearly are passionate about and you love doing it. It’s inspiring to be in the presence of a person who went after his dream and is living it.”

“What are your dreams, then?” Phil is glad that Dan asks, but tentatively.

“I don’t have any dreams. I kind of just float from one set to another doing this or that. I have two degrees, one in post-production. I use like half of what I know and do jobs.”

“Wait, you have two degrees?”

“Yeah, I got one in linguistics, realized it won’t help my job chances so I went back to university and got one in post-production.”

“You must’ve had a dream if you went to university back and worked for a second degree in such a niche subject.”

Phil dips his legs in the pool. It feels cold for a second.

“The dream was to be in the film industry and now I am in the industry, technically But I just feel like a zombie walking from one freelance gig to another.” Phil takes a deep breath, “I guess I didn’t imagine my life to be so average. I just wanted to be extraordinary when I was little. But as they say, sometimes child’s dreams remain child’s dreams. Life will probably be like this, uneventful. And that is totally fine, I know that. But I fear that I will not leave a mark. that nothing I do will please me ever. It’s scary. So I look at the stars and find comfort that nothing matters.”

There is silence for a minute.

“That was too much, sorry Da-”

“Hey! You’re never too much.”

“But sometimes I feel too much, so I put on big smiles and a bigger positive attitude.”

“And I want you to know that you are incredibly brave for doing that. It’s not something that the weak at heart can do.”

Phil is looking at the reflection of them in the pool, silent.

“And I’ll tell you, sometimes dreams are overrated. There was a time in my life when all I wanted was to be an actor. And now that I am one, I am restless. Now all I want is to work in the goddamn World War I movie that Christopher Nolan is making. Because I think I can change the world by playing that role. I don’t even know if I’ll get the role because I’m too commercial or something. But you know, sometimes floating is okay. Also I know me saying this sounds not right, but-”

“Dan, thanks. I’ll keep your words in mind but you know I’ll continue to feel… empty without any drive. This isn’t any way to live.”

“Then you should know that I’ll be there to support you on your way.”

The night has brought with itself the coolness of serenity. Their legs in the water are warm now, a good contrast. Phil can hear the crickets, it’s a sound he has associated with childhood, playing hide and seek in the lawn of his grandmother. Now, he’s associating it with a new memory; a memory of hushed whispers and spilled hearts. He feels lighter in a way he hasn’t for a long time. He continually alternates between running and facing his fears. It’s nice to let it out for a change.

“So, Christopher Nolan?” Phil asks.

“Yeah, I don’t actually know if I can talk about this but fuck it. It’s a movie about this guy and how he handles the war atmosphere, along with his best friend when they both have conflicting morals. It’s just that I want to portray a character that probably lost so much, was and is still counted as a number in the war. Some stories deserve to be told.”

“But a war movie?”

“It’s Nolan so I’m pretty sure that it’s not going to be less war and more character. And some kind of warped time concept.”

“That’s a very noble reason to play a character, Dan.”

“Yeah, I got bored of all the money I get,” Dan laughs.

 

*

 

It’s 3am and they are on Dan’s way too large bedroom, kissing like teenagers. It’s warm, the inviting kind. “Will you come to the premiere with me?” He kisses him on the cheek after that. 

“Like a date?” Phil is giggling, delirious from the wine and kissing.

“No, like two friends who go to premieres together. Platonic, just bros,” he pauses for effect. “Of course like a date.”

“Yeah I’ll come.” 

They are in their shirts and pants only and bare legs intertwined have never felt better. By now kissing Dan feels a lot more familiar. They fall asleep with their arms around each other, kissing till their eyes droop and sleep sets in.

 

*

 

Dan is sitting in Louise’s office, watching her pace as she talks on the phone. She does that a lot, but it’s kinda her job. Just looking at her pacing, one foot ahead of another, the steady rhythm makes him nervous.

It’s very cold in the office, way colder than yesterday when he was out beside the pool with Phil. He shivers in his too thin jumper. He doesn’t want to think about last night; he doesn’t want to think about Phil at all. He feels heartless, like a monster, shallow and filthy. He never thought becoming an actor would bring these obligations that weigh him down.

Yesterday was the first time in months that he slept well. He wants to tell himself that it didn’t have to do anything with a feeling of comfort in someone’s arms. And then he woke up and Phil was out of his home but there was a plate of half burnt pancakes with a note with a heart and Dan was left standing in the kitchen with the biggest smile. Everything happened so fast, he was sucked in the tornado that was Phil Lester without any previous warning. He doesn’t know when the lines blurred and he was at the other end with his heart open.

“Dan, I know the last week was hard for you, what with faking an entire romance for the sake of a few photos and headlines.”

Dan sucks in a deep breath and lets out a shaky laugh. He suddenly feels colder than the room.

“But I know you’re a great actor so that’s fine,” she waves her hand nonchalantly, “just the poor guy. He was good, I mean I only saw him in the paper, but he was good.”

There’s a shiver of something akin to possessiveness. “He is good.”

Louise sits down beside him. She puts her hand on his and takes a deep breath. Dan braces himself, for what, he doesn’t know.

“The attention your stunt got has really boosted the film,” and Dan’s heart stings at the word stunt.

Louise’s voice gets really low. “But turns out the film PR guys didn’t really like that the relationship was with a guy.”

“So they _are homophobic_.” Dan’s voice cracks in the middle.

“Exactly. They wanted something big so I asked you to go with that guy Phil, right? Because I figured society sucks so they will obviously be blown by the fact that you are dating a guy and you already knew him. But I didn’t know that they’d turn out to be assholes.”

“Louise, you were just doing your job.”

She gets up and starts walking around again.

“Well that doesn’t really matter now, actually, because you can just break up with him. In fact, you need to break up with him before the premiere.”

“Okay.” Dan says, he is quivering inside.

“Thank god you’re an actor, I wouldn’t be able to pull something like that off without either giving him my heart or never being able to break up with him.”

Dan looks up at her and smiles. “Thank god indeed I’m an actor. And don’t worry; I’ll break up with him. It wasn’t actually anything serious or anything.”

Louise is satisfied with the answer and goes back to tending her calls.

_“It wasn’t actually anything serious.”_

Phil’s laugh rings in his ears.

He thinks of a promise, an ask whispered with no space between mouths. He’s thankful that he’s an actor because he can smile without raising any questions as he exits the building with his heart crying.

 

*

 

“Premiere, hmm, that’s serious.” She picks up one phil’s shirts and examines it on herself in the mirror.

“Sanam, are you kidding me. It’s more than serious. It’s the seriousest thing that has ever happened in any of my relationships up to date.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s not a word. Also not this shirt.”

“I don’t care if the word exists or not. I’m freaking out.”

“I guess Dan Howell isn’t that bad.”

“He isn’t bad,” Phil’s smiling to himself.

“Come on sappy head, let’s get you an outfit. I want all eyes on you, not Dan, in this premiere. Be the trophy boyfriend you were destined to be.”

“I don’t know if that was a compliment so I’m going to exit the conversation and try to change the topic.”

“Good decision, bud.”

 

*

 

He ends up in a shirt, black with red roses along with a black blazer and tailored black paints. He feels good. Before leaving, he stares at himself in the mirror and for the first time likes what he sees. The red of the roses stands out with his black hair. The dark of the suit is a contrast to his pale skin and makes his eyes look a darker shade of blue. It’s a pleasant feeling to like when he sees himself.

Sanam wolf whistles behind him. She is in a pretty pink dress that’s a little fluffy. He can imagine her twirling in it.

He’s thrilled that she is also going. He’s supposed to meet Dan right outside, all nerves in his body feel raw and open. There is a thrum of excitement in his bones. Sanam can talk him out of a little of his anxiety. She’s one of the people that can ground him in situations that overwhelm him. He’ll be lost without her.

“Okay lover boy, let’s take you to your man.”

Phil rolls his eyes and complies. “After you madam.” 

The first thing he registers after stepping out of his uber is the lights. There are so many lights, all directed at the red carpet. The second thing he notices is the screams of the many people crowded around the lights like moths. The thought is so funny he manages to relax a little. With one hand clenched in his pocket and the other holding his invite he walks through the camera men towards the entry. There’s a burly man who checks his invite and looks up and down Phil twice. He nods and motions Phil to move ahead. Sanam passes through without any such complications. Of course.

Once he is walking on the red carpet, it’s an altogether surreal feeling. He has worked to put so many movies together, but it’s always been behind the curtain. He knows it’s impossible to have his efforts recognized by the common man that watches the movie, but now, as he walks slowly on the carpet, he can taste the fame now; be it ever so fleeting. The screams around him make him a little dizzy. It’s exhilarating to be walking among faces he recognizes from his passing jobs at sets along with faces from the big screen. Strangely, he doesn’t feel out of place, there’s a sense of belonging amid people who have lived their lives devoted to the film industry. His nerves die down the more he walks and the more he is surrounded by people calling each other’s name.

He gets quite a lot of looks too. He is aware that his face has appeared alongside Dan’s but he is immune to that. He likes being alongside Dan, appearing beside him. Dan makes him feel comfortable, makes him feel special and unburdened. He likes being airy and free, glad that Dan is the person that makes him feel that. He knows what that is. It’s scary and electrifying to be conscious of what the end of this is going to be. And he can picture it, clearly.

Happiness is coursing through him, with a tinge of excitement. He can’t wait to see Dan now. He is not prepared for what happens when he gets with him, the media bustle; but as long as he is with Dan and Dan looks at him the way he does with soft eyes, he is prepared for the world.

Sanam had left his side minutes ago to join her dance squad friends. Phil navigates his way around the crowds, partly unaware and partly uncaring of the murmurs. There’s only so much he can care about. The past has taught him to take people’s words, the media’s words with a grain of salt. There is so much that they know, so much that they don’t bother to uncover. Copy pasting predictable words and creating a false buzz is what many are good at.

He can see Dan’s back. He stands out among the people that surround him. It’s not the red that makes him stand out, it’s the way he commands himself, the way he holds himself, confident. It’s so different from his own stance. He is slouched, always trying to make himself seem smaller. He holds himself with thread of insecurity and unfinished dreams that were never chased and standing a few feet ahead of him is his boyfriend, a beautiful contrast. But all that seems less frightening when Dan looks at him and he is reminded that some things happen for a reason and it’s okay to be chasing desires when you have the right company.

Dan turns around and Phil’s breath hitches. He’s in a red suit with black a black shirt underneath. The red of his suit is covered with roses and Phil blushes as looks down to see roses on his shirt as well. They match, without any planning. Phil is thoroughly pleased with that fact. His hair is styled in a quiff, the waves still there; Phil wonders if they will feel as soft as they felt that night.

What stands out the most is that Dan’s eyes are shining. He likes being here, among people who worked hard for something that he was a part of, likes being a part of something creative. The air around him is easier though he still keeps his distance from people, Phil can see that. Dan laughs unprompted and Phil’s heart feels full with adoration.

He walks forward now, fast-paced. All he wants to do is hug Dan. He wants Dan’s shining eyes to be on him.

“Dan,” he calls out. 

No response. Dan smiles at the photographers swarming him. It feels strained now.

“Dan!” Once again.

He’s louder now, deliberately louder than the noise around.

The forced grin that Dan gives to the camera seems wrong.

Again, “Dan!”

This time, he turns around and their eyes meet for a second. There is a flicker of something in his eyes. (Phil later recounts it as recognition and grief).

The eye contact lasts for a second but Phil learns why it’s called contact because that stare hardens him. Dan turns around, almost unfazed and leans down to kiss his co-star.

Phil’s blood turns cold. It’s chilling, the shock that passes through him. He stands there as the people shift around him. He’s like the epicenter, waves o that pass through him move the people around him. He feels stuck to the place, hands still in the air to greet Dan. He didn’t know his heart could feel this empty after all.

Screams, his brain acknowledges that. People pushing his shoulders as they rush past the main leads, another acknowledgement. His feet on the carpet as he turns and walks towards something, he doesn’t know what, but somewhere away from Dan. The mechanical act of putting one foot in from of other all because of his muscle memory because his mind feels too full and empty at once.

Everyone rushes behind him, he feels too drained now to gather his thoughts. Guilt and heartbreak flood his blood. Guilt for trusting too easily despite previous knowledge; heartbreak because his heart did shatter on the red carpet, mixing with the red and disappearing there itself.

“Oh dear Phil! Are you okay?”

“Huh?” Phil is suddenly looking at a very distraught Sanam.

“I saw that on the screen there,” she makes a sour face, “Can’t believe they have screens of themselves everywhere. What narcissistic assholes.”

“You saw that, that means it was real.” His voice cracks far too much.

“Sweetie, how are you doing?”

“I should’ve known Sanam, you told me. History repeats itself and yet I let myself fall.”

“Hey, hey it’s not your fault. Even I was fooled by that reincarnation of Satan.”

“But why, Sanam, why?” Phil breaks down, suddenly hugging her.

“This is going to be hard, but I’m glad that it happened because he does not deserve you. You are going to get through that pain, it’s going to hurt but you will come out of it as a stronger person. And ultimately the prize will be no Dan Howell because he is not good enough for your tears.”

She smooths his back for a minute more. Comfort travels through touches.

“Let’s go watch the movie,” Phil says as he lets go of the embrace. 

“Nah, let’s go home and get into our PJs and drink hot cocoa or something.”

“I’m not going to miss your dance because of a douchebag. Come on, I already feel better.”

“But, you need to be in comfort clothes and cry a little more so you can feel like yourself.”

“I’ll feel worse if we miss the dance because of me. Plus, we can go back and bitch about how bad Dan was in the movie and then cry.”

“Are you sure?”

 

Phil sniffs, “yeah.”

 

*

 

As he walks into the darkness of the theatre, his breathing has calmed down. He’s holding onto Sanam’s hand, a tether to reality. He’s a bit glad he has this movie where he can calm himself, make himself look a little more stronger to face Dan again if he comes across him. Also, this movie might be the last time he can look at Dan for himself, be selfish. He’ll be ready to move on after that.

 

*

 

Dan is an actor. He keeps telling himself that as he goes on through all that he is supposed to do through the night. Kiss his co-star. Lie to the media. Smile. Break his own heart. Smile some more.

As he enters the theatre, coughing a hollow laugh for the producer, all he can see is Phil’s eyes; how he shattered the twinkle in them with one action. He breathes in sharply. Pain is constant. He knew what he had to do, anticipation was killing him but nothing compares to this. The deed is done and he has to now live with the consequence. Pain and guilt and constant knowledge of being deliberate about breaking someone’s heart.

He thinks of a home far away, not really a home but one person and it helps. He hates that it helps with the pain. He clutches to both of those thoughts, one grating and one calming his nerves as he closes his eyes and lets the familiar music wash over him. He’s too weary to look at his own face.

Behind him Phil leans forward drinking Dan’s face in, letting himself enjoy this, even if it is just for a few moments. He’s amazed at how natural it is to see Dan fall in love on screen too. His smile onscreen is too painful to look at because it reminds him of poolsides and night air. His smile lines are the same, the same soft look on his face.

Phil ignores the fact that his eyes don’t sparkle the same way on screen.

_“He’s an actor, that’s why he’s so good.”_ He tells himself that instead.

 

*

 

He’s at home. He doesn’t feel like he’s at home. He doesn’t feel at ease, doesn’t feel anything. Home should remind him of comfort but it’s unsettling to be at a familiar place with all the unfamiliar feelings swimming in his body. He’s just sat on his couch after shrugging of his blazer in a daze. He can’t move, doesn’t want to move; so he's sat staring at a photo of him and Dan that he’d hastily stuck on his wall after a tipsy night. 

There’s so much he wants to say, but nothing comes out. Sanam had left him at his house and after a very assertive (false) assurances that he is okay had left. There was only Sanam talking at him, it was an effort to make him feel better. An effort, that didn’t reach anywhere.

The clock chimes at 3am. He feels like a twisted Cinderella. The one that left her heart at the end of the stairs. 

But the heart has been stepped on by so many people, it can’t be returned now.

 

*

 

He wakes up in his bed and every last detail of last night comes back to him. HIs blood turns cold again. There’s a promise muttered between waking and getting up to never let Dan affect him this much. He can’t remember much after coming home. He only remembers sitting on his couch and staring at their photo. There is no memory after that. It must be muscle memory that got him to bed after all.

Mechanical motions after that. Brushing his teeth. Drinking a glass of water. Pouring himself milk and cereal. When he wanders into the living room and there’s still that photo of them. Dan is smiling and he is too. It’s a quick selfie, an unattractive angle but their happiness shines through. It’s a punch in the gut to realize that it’s only him who’s happy; Dan’s an actor that can replicate laughter and smiles and get away with causing wreck.

He walks, storms up to the picture and tears it. Yesterday’s nothingness is replaced with rage today.

Mechanical motions. This time powered by a fire, one that just needed a little fuel to light up and consume him. Phil allows that fire to burn all of him. 

He’s out of his apartment in half an hour. There are things he has to do. Life that is happening. And he’s going to do all of the things he sought to.

 

*

 

Everything hits him after he walks out of the audition room. Phil auditioned for a Christopher Nolan film five minutes after getting to know what he had to do. He’s out in a whirl, twenty minutes after entering the building, encountering a mean assistant with straight blonde hair and a pair of spectacles too chunky for her face. There’s adrenaline rushing through his veins. He feels not himself, but there is a part of him that feels uncovered; strangely like something hidden about himself has been left open for him and for the world alike to see.

For the first time, he feels the LA sun as joyful, spreading a happy glow with the warmth. It’s hot, but he’s in a loose shirt and the rays of the sun soaking through the cotton feel… nice. There’s a perspective change, he can feel it in his bones starting from his core and ending to his fingertips. It’s ridiculous, how a little switch has been flipped by a sudden impulse decision. 

The breeze in his hair is welcome. As he walks through the palm tree lined streets of a town too loud, there is a sentiment of settlement misplaced from its usual place and fluttering through his body. It’s looking at the ice cream stall that he’s seen passes every day and feeling nostalgic, it’s the group of tourist friends, too loud and foreign and sticking out, it’s the familiar-unfamiliar faces he’s seen in snippets on the internet. The feeling is everywhere around him and at the same time within his centre holding everything together.

The previous rage is there, of course it is there. There is no way for it to go, it’s just been reduced by the breeze and the chatter and the distant sound of the sea. All Phil wants to do now is sit on his worn couch, drink the tea his mother bought and rationalize his thoughts; to toss every piece of memory attached with Dan Howell in the air, rab on to the good one’s and chuck everything away. He wants answers but there is so much safety in ignorance too. Not knowing and being sheltered from ugly truths like adding sugar to the bitter of the tea is very comforting. He wants to think about what the relationship meant, what his action must have affected the disappearing shreds of the link between them. But like his tea, he’ll let everything sit for a little too long and either gulp it down or chuck it away. Both sound tempting.

 

*

 

“WHAT DID YOU DO?”

 

“I feel you keep asking me this question.”

“PHIL”

“Shh Sanam,” Phil looks around for beady eyes looking at them where they are sitting on the rear couch at The Cafe, “I just went for an audition, nothing big, then went to work for the other bitchy director and now I’m here.”

“I love how you just casually put the audition thing out there. As if that wasn’t the topic I was chasing, but I actually wanted to know about the bitchy director, like I haven’t had enough of them.”

Phil holds up his hands defensively. “You asked what I did. I’m just telling you.”

“You don’t understand the gravity of the situation, do you? Are you just ignoring it the fact that you, a person who has always deliberately stayed away from acting, just acted? Because-”

“I know what I did, Sanam,” he cuts her off. The atmosphere is too tense all of a sudden. Sanam retreats, and he feels bad but hopes she understands.

“Sorry, but yeah I know what I did. It was an impulse decision. Probably the shock talking. It doesn’t really mean anything now though. Nothing’s going to happen out of that.”

Sanam looks more composed now. “Let’s not underestimate your acting skills. That I didn’t think existed until now.”

“Let’s not do anything. I think I’m gonna go home and take a nap.”

“Don’t you have work to do?”

“The wonderful life of a freelancer, I’m my own boss and that’s why I’m mostly broke,” Phil yawns.

Sanam laughs at that, leans forward and ruffles his hair. “Okay, sleepyhead.” She is quiet for a moment, “Just… take care of yourself, okay.”

“Yes, mom,” Phil sleepily mumbles.

Sanam hits him on his head.

 

*

 

The days pass by. Phil learns to get into a routine. He wakes up, tries to not think of Dan’s sleepy eyes, brushes his teeth, gets into the shower, fails at not thinking about Dan’s eyes, goes to to The Cafe, pretends to not stare at the table where he and Dan sat, works and learns to push all the anger down.

It’s a beginning. It’s not effective all the time, but he learns to make it work. Phil spends his downtime navigating bars and avoiding free drinks. He strikes up banter; turns a blind eye to suggestive stares being passed his way. He laughs louder than usual, smiles too much at strangers, but goes home alone.

There are times when he is angry, uncontrollably furious at how he was treated. He clenches his fists and carries on with his work at times like this. He knows he needs to channel his emotions better, but sometimes closing your eyes and breathing heavily work better. At least he's not talking.

And then there are times when nostalgia hits him, hard and Dan’s laugh gets stuck in his mind. Both are equally painful, it’s past hitting him at the worst of times. But he trudges forwards. There is not much to do except shake all those memories, free himself of the web of the past. 

 

*

 

It’s 7am and his phone is ringing. He is still on his bed, trying to drown the shrill sound of the default ringtone with his pillows. 7am is not the time for phone calls, it’s for avoiding the day’s tasks for as long as possible. The phone stops ringing and Phil sighs in relief. He pulls up his blanket, trying to savour the last moments of warmth in bed before he has to go and continue with life. 

A shrill sharp and the phone starts ringing again. Phil groans loudly, finally getting up and reaching for his phone kept on his bedside drawer. He hears his mother’s admonishing voice going on about ‘radiation’ in his head before he picks it up.

“Hello,” Phil is embarrassed at how sleepy his voice sounds.

“Hello, is this Phil Lester speaking?” The voice is so professional, Phil wakes up with a jerk.

“Yes,” he clears his throat.

“Good morning! I have some good news for you!” The voice lightens a little, “Congratulations! You have been cast as the lead role in Nolan’s new movie. We’re going to email you the further details.” Phil’s mind shuts down. “Congratulations again Phil, we’re excited to work with you.”

The line is dead immediately after that. Phil manages to slip in a soft thank you with his scatterbrain.

Phil has always been a part of the film industry. This phone calls seems like it belongs to an IT company, not Hollywood. Then he realises, he does not have an agent. The lead actor never answers phone, he is the lead actor. The thought hits him hard. 

He falls onto the bed with a thud, the blanket under him and poking his back. It doesn’t matter because the news is still resonating in his mind, hitting different spots in his brain and leaving him with the same feeling of delight and confusion. There are so many emotions going through his body, he is overwhelmed. 

His eyes are heavy, all the emotions settling behind them.

He falls asleep with a thrum in his body and a heart intense with emotions.

 

*

 

It’s 9am when he wakes up. The sunlight streaming through the windows confuses him. He feels disoriented, he’s in his bedroom but all of him feel like it’s far away. Then it hits him, the phone call, the congratulations, his head hitting the bed and spinning before it did that.

He starts laughing. And laughs some more. Unbridled joy courses through his veins. The confusion is swept away by the thundering adrenaline excitement brings. For the first time he is untethered from the space he’s occupying; he’s floating, floating in happiness. 

It’s unnatural to feel that happy for something so far away from him. He should feel anxious, scared, but all that goes through his body is the ecstasy of the new enterprise. He had run away from this, this very moment he’s living right now and all he wants to do is head right into it. The fear has flown out and he’s flying too. He doesn’t know where all this is coming from but he is ready to embrace all these feelings.

It’s the start of finding his own feet, he feels it in his gut. There will be no more doubts of where he is going after this. It’s so unlike him, all of this, but it is happening. He’s ready to burst.

He picks up his phone. “HELLO SANAM,”

“God, why are you screaming in the mornin-”

“SANAM I GOT THE ROLE”

“YOU WHAT,” Sanam manages to be louder than him. 

“I GOT THE LEAD ROLE IN THE NOLAN FILM”

“IF THIS IS A PRANK LESTER, YOU ARE DEAD.”

“I hope this is not a prank on me, because I got the call in the morning from a very professional sounding lady and I got so excited I fell asleep again and now I'm up I'm buzzing.”

“Wait, how did you manage to fall asleep after that caffeine of a news? You're weird.”

“Uhm, I don't know. But that's not important! I'm going to be in a movie.”

“YOU'RE GOING TO BE IN A MOVIE.”

There's a momentary pause after which they both scream. 

Sanam speaks up in the middle, “Wait, did the lady tell you to do anything.”

Phil breaks from his reverie. “I think she told me to check my email?”

“And who's gonna do that?”

“I'm on it, mom.”

He puts his phone on speaker and grabs his laptop kept near the pillow. 

“I have a meeting, like an orientation or something with the director, writers and other actors,” he reads aloud.

“Of course you do.” Phil can hear her rolling her eyes. 

“The meeting is today, at ten.”

“We really need to get you an agent Phil.”

“All that later, I gotta get ready now. Luckily the place is near my house.” He jumps out of bed, stripping quickly. “We're meeting after this gets over. I want you to pinch me.”

“But only after I hug you.”

“Ah! Bye!”

 

*

 

He walks to the place. It's a fifteen minute walk from his house. Times like this remind him how close he is to Hollywood, how the industry he always had a strain with will be near him no matter. It's natural, he supposes to fall into something he avoided for so long. He's scared to call it destiny, but it feels a lot like that. 

He's walking the same route he takes to go the grocery store. This route now is life changing. He'll never return back the same once he's done the deed. 

It's scary, but only mildly. What has remained with him right from the morning is a calm. There is a lot he doesn’t know but right now, he revels in the not-knowing. He’s anxious too, a combination of emotions he never knew could take place together.

He’s jittery as he enters the building. He double checks the address again, scared that he has read everything wrong for a moment. He checks his watch. It’s 9:45. 

The building is a commercial one. There seems to be glass doors everywhere. It is very quiet, he only spots a few people. Some of his previous anxiety returns at that. He spots the 

He takes in a deep breath and opens the door to the room.

 

*

 

There are three professional looking people in the room. Their heads raise when he walks in. It is a moment of solid eye contact between Phil and them after which they all collectively get up and crowd near Phil. 

“Congrats, Phil. It is so nice to see you.”

“Oh my I didn’t expect the lead actor to turn up early.”

“I see why they chose you. You look even more striking in real life.”

There are more _“Congratulations”_ and _“Oh you look so good!”_ Phil knows he’s blushing like a madman and manages to cough out a thank you. He isn’t sure what impression he gave off but the professional looking people are back at their seats, smiling and talking amongst themselves. He’s stood near the door, unsure of what he’s supposed to do. 

He ends up sitting near the end of the large conference table that occupies most of the room.

One of the professional people, a girl with her hair tied back and a gray suit whispers to him, “I’m sorry but you’ll have to wait for some time. These actors and directors take their own sweet time when it comes to meetings like these. I’m surprised you were so early.”

“I’ll make sure to come late from next time then.”

The girl laughs and Phil feels at ease again. 

“Hey can you all please introduce yourselves to me. I don’t know if you’ve noticed but I’m kinda new around this area,” Phil whispers back to the girl after a minute.

“Oh, I’ve noticed and lots of people are going to notice too. You’ve been really impressive, that's why these two nerds aren’t talking to you. There might also be a crush mixed in the bag of reasons. I’m not going to rat.”

Phil blushes. 

It’s gratifying to know that people do see him as attractive; incredibly superficial but certainly an ego-booster. He leans in to the woman to let out a meek thanks when the door to the room flies open.

Dan Howell is standing at the door with sunglasses perched on his head and a Starbucks cup in his hand. He wants to laugh at the stereotype but his heart stops at Dan’s sight. Dan is staring at him, looking right into him but his face is unreadable. He continues to stare at Phil nonetheless, who is frozen on the spot. There is some part of his that wants to squirm, to run away from this mess and never see dan again. But there is also a part of him that steels him to face the moment, that grasps at the threads of coherency to smile curtly at Dan.

The smile shakes Dan up. He returns the smile, and settles in the chair opposite to Phil’s. 

“Hallelujah I can’t believe he is this early.” he hears the girl whisper to him but there is white noise paying in his brain.

Dan is sitting in front of him going through a file full of papers. It’s difficult seeing him, like this. There are a lot of questions that pop in his mind but all his rationality is swept under the wave of relief to see him again, even if it causes him hurt. He hates himself for feeling at ease on seeing Dan, but to be able to see him once again without bright lights and the media is nice. He doesn’t want to get answers though because he does not want his anger to be misplaced. He doesn’t want, doesn’t need closure because it might make Dan seem reasonable for his actions.

He forgets about the girl and her expression.

There is a blanket of tense silence spread over the room broken periodically by the shuffling of Dan’s papers. He knows the girl has shifted a little away from him after being ignored by him. He wants to care but all Phil does is stare at Dan and pretend to not stare at him simultaneously.

Dan looks up at the people at the end of the table, “the others are just on their way.” His expression is unreadable.

He goes back to reading his papers again. Dan’s voice is the same, but it feels so different at the same time. He realizes it's the first time he’s heard it like this, brusque. It seems off, like you’d find your childhood bedroom without the posters.

He goes back to talk to the girl, feeling bad for ignoring her earlier. 

“Sorry, I didn’t catch your name earlier?” he asks.

She brightens at his question. Out of the corner of his eyes, he sees Dan glance at their interaction and go back to reading. 

“I’m Janet,” she answers, moving her chair closer to him now. “I’m very excited to work with both you and Dan Howell. It is crazy how talented both of you are, I’m just really lucky!”

Dan coughs. 

Phil begins to look at him when he door is thrown open.

Everything's a blur after that. The director surrounded by an entourage of what he assumes assistant directors walk in. Phil stands up almost reflexively in greeting that earns a chuckle from Christopher Nolan.

The next couple of hours he learns more about the movie. It's almost a documentary focusing on soldier being deported. 

“It's not a war movie, it's a human movie,” Nolan says. “The soldier, you, Phil is caught between patriotism and his own morals. I want to show what war does to humans caught up in it. Along with the soldier there is also is best friend, that's Dan who's vocally against war but is still deported.”

Phil looks at Dan who's stoically looking at Nolan. He feels a spike of guilt for taking away Dan's dream role. 

“I want you, Phil and Dan to explore the relationship between these two people.”

From the corner of his eyes, he can see Dan turn to look at him. Phil resists the temptation to watch Dan some more.

There is a lot of reading after that. Reading about the character, the setting. Reading the scenes. Phil has done the technical work behind the camera but going through the screenplay has managed to stir something in him like no other work. 

Nolan walks out with his entourage with the same casual certainty he had walked in. Dan follows suit. It leaves Phil sitting in his chair surrounded by Janet, Mark and Mahenoor (as he learns their names.) 

“Bye,” Phil almost announces to the room. 

A chorus of goodbyes follow that. 

Phil walks out. And for the first time he feels he's done good. 

 

*

 

There is his face on the front of all the newspapers the next day.Of course, he had expected it. But there was also an optimistic Phil prancing in his mind that had thought this would be closed off, that this change in his world would restrict to him and only him. A world of his own, it would have included Dan if he had thought about this some time ago; but he kind of wants that world to be able to cut dan off, in his own way.

The photo is the one from the audition day. Phil stares at the lines around his eyes to avoid looking at the words, bold, printed above it; ‘Star Dan Howell’s Ex-Boyfriend Steals His Role’

_Dan Howell’s ex-boyfriend who made thousands of hearts break with his brief but intimate appearance with the British actor is set to crush your heart as the lead actor of Christopher Nolan’s next war movie. The newbie was casted for the role post the breakup between them. Though the breakup was a hushed affair, we are now questioning whether it even took place for sources tell us Phil Lester has landed the role because of Dan Howell. We are very excited to see the two hunks on the screen anyway._

It’s a small article but the small string of words cut very deep. A speculation and all Phil worked for blown up in his face. A source that gives out Phil’s dignity. Lies that Phil had hoped were true some time ago. 

Sanam comes to his house, he makes her tea like she's the one that needs consolation. She screams and rants, storming angrily around the house with the mug in her hand. Phil sits on the sofa and let’s her take care of his anger. There’s not much Phil feels at the article, just a sense of resignation and anger. He knew something was coming and that something manifested into ugly words.

It’ll die down, he knows. He’ll smile a little brighter and brush off condolences offered with sad smiles. It’s not even the beginning now, it’ll be easy to bounce back.

Sanam is still talking, her anger filling the room and engulfing his own. He takes the mug from her and takes a sip. It’s cold now. At least something has cooled down.

 

*

 

There’s a more detailed script reading the day after the article. Phil doesn’t bother with dressing nice. He ends up in a dark blue hoodie (for caution) and black jeans. He doesn’t feel quite himself in the outfit, thinks about Dan too much. It’ll be easy to melt into shadows, he reckons. 

There is a crowd of paparazzi surrounding the building he needs to go to. The cameras flashing, the light, the screaming, everything never fazed him. That scares him, his indifference till the thing actually affects him. He pulls his hoodie up and enters the building through the back entry. 

He meets his eye with a reporter who stares past him. What he calls melting into shadows is actually him being ordinary, nothing special. People don’t look twice at him, he’s easy to forget. It stings, but in that moment he’s glad for it. He hears a commotion right before he enters the building. 

It’s Dan. he can recognize his voice anywhere. It comes from the main entry, seems authoritative and angry. Curiosity gets the better of him and he sneaks to the front. There really is no need for sneaking. He and Dan are fundamentally different. Where is he is easy to forget, Dan is memorable, a dazzling smile and sparkling eyes. BUt where he is caring, Dan is cruel. 

“This is my official statements you vultures, before you start making stories and give it a lie of _sources_ tell. Phil Lester and I have broken up. It was because of me and I would like for all of you to never question me and especially him about that otherwise you wouldn’t like the consequences. And as for the role Phil Lester has gotten, even I auditioned for it. He is the lead role because of is talent and not because of me. This is the last time I’m speaking of this, any unwarranted articles written by nasty journalists will have a repercussion. Thank you for your time.”

He turns towards the building and looks at Phil like he just knew he was standing there all this while. His eyes never leave Phil’s till he gets into the lift.

 

*

 

“You didn’t have to do it, you know,” Phil begins. They are sitting in the same chairs, in the same room from that day. 

“I wanted to.” Dan sounds surprised, like he didn’t expect Phil to even look at him. “It’s not fair that they treat you this way because of me. Well, because I was an asshole. It’s not right.”

Dan looks sad. Phil has a million questions resting on the tip of his tongue. 

He leans back into his chair, mouth sealed shut. Dan starts tapping a rhythm. The room still feels silent.

 

*

 

Phil loves the script reading. He loves the story that Nolan has weaved; it really isn’t a war story. Script reading seems less like work (it’s crazy how script reading is his work now), it feels like he is a part of a story himself. He goes to the session excited to know and delve more into the characters’ lives. There is destruction and so much hurt in every page but humanity shines through the people that make it. It really is a human story.

He plays James and takes Phil some time to differentiate the character from himself. He becomes James and it gets difficult to shed him after he gets into character. It’s great for acting because he continually blows everyone’s minds with the way he acts.

This is very new to him. Phil was always good at things, but never good enough to get appreciation for work. He has stumbled into acting he knows that. After years of ignoring it while it stared in his face, stubborn, he has now head firstly challenged it. And he loves it. He loves being able to take a two dimensional character, real only on pages and turn it into a person. There is so much that makes someone a human being and every day is a challenge to add nuances that makes James a breathing, living soul.

Dan always sits opposite to Phil in readings. There is a lot Phil has to learn from Dan. Dan maintains a professionalism Phil only dreams about achieving. He knows the script and the story like the back of the hand. Unlike Phil that learns the story as each session goes by, Dan already knows every scene and constantly adds his own input.

He plays William, James’ best friend. He plays William like he is William’s sculptor, creating and molding him with each dialogue. Phil is taken aback a lot of times at the fondness in Dan’s words directed at him. Then he realizes it’s not really Dan, it is William and it is being directed at James. 

 

*

 

But he sees Dan Howell in the script readings too.

Dan Howell, who brings doughnuts and coffee for everyone for early mornings (even if he is half an hour late and doesn't touch the doughnuts), who still makes self-deprecating jokes (Phil feels particularly proud when he makes a joke he has already heard), who is hard-working and just as dimple-y as before.

The only difference between Dan Howell and his Dan is the distance the former maintains from him. Instead of loud laughs there are courteous smiles directed at him, instead of a constant touching he gets Dan sitting away from him. It makes it easier to differentiate the past from the future, to further him from a constant presence and he is grateful to Dan for that.

But the difference is jarring and it hits him. Always.

 

*

 

“He’s acting so weird. Well, not actually weird. He’s normal, the Dan I knew, that I dated. How’s that possible? I thought our time together was a lie because Dan never was real with me. But he’s the same? I expected his voice to be higher, or his laugh cockier but… he’s the same.” Phil sighs.

“This is making me question everything, oh god I’m going mad. Was I the wrong one in the relationship then. He did say he was an asshole, but why is he so sweet? I know he can do bad things, what he did to me was monstrous but ughh. I’m losing my mind.”

He rests his head on the table, defeated. Sanam pats him. 

“Look, there are some things we know for sure. Dan broke your heart and what you do with that is up to you. Dan is also apparently good. That’s okay, not everything is black and white. Don’t confuse your surprise with something else Phil.”

Phil just makes a grumpy sound.

“Enough of your boy trouble, I have some girl trouble.”

Phil immediately springs up.

“It’s not actually trouble. We just started seeing each other.” Sanam adds.

“You couldn’t have said this earlier! Who is she? How does she look like? What does she do? Is she nice?”

“You were moping. And yeah, she is nice.”

“Tell me everything.”

 

*

 

“I still don’t understand how you don’t want an apology?”

“I just… don’t.”

“Aren’t you angry though?”

“Of course I am.” A beat. “I mean I was, I’m not that sure if I am now….”

 

*

 

Hollywood parties are like university parties; Phil has concluded. There is alcohol in stuff he doesn’t expect there to be, there are people who have probably not been invited, faces he will not see anywhere but here in the dim light. The only thing that’s different is the smell, Phil’s really glad for that.

It’s too early in the party to fully enjoy it. Phil probably needs to socialize and make his place in the industry for himself. Just the idea of introducing himself to people is exhausting. It’ll be easier to do it now, less people the less it is intimidating. He clenches his fists in his pockets and tries to even out his breathing. It’s easy to talk sometimes but the fear of making a bad first impression is holding him back. 

It’s the ‘start of shoot’ party (or mostly an excuse to party before starting shooting). People are not drunk enough for the party to be deemed lively enough so he can jump into conversations. So he just ends up loitering near the bar hoping the dim light will hide him.

“Are you trying to be the anti-social one now?”

Phil jumps.

“Oh my god you scared me.”

“Sorry.” 

The word is too heavy in the space between them.

“I can’t take the one trait you’re good at away from you now, can I?”

“Hey!” Dan is laughing.

And it’s like they never stopped talking, like the past months of awkwardness didn’t happen at all. Ease trickled in their conversations as sure as the flow of a river.

“I’m just surprised you’re on time for once actually. That’s why I got scared.”

 

“I didn’t know that this was a roast Dan Howell party.”

“Every party I go to automatically becomes that.”

“That means I should throw more parties.” Dan is not looking at Phil. 

Phil wants to believe he imagines the plummeting of the atmosphere around them. He’ll do anything to go back in time. But he doesn’t know to when.

He opts for a joke. “Masochist.”

It got a little too late for a joke.

“Well, if you’re gonna just sit here and hide from the scary people I will have to be the strict parent and drag you out to actually talk. You’re kinda the star of this event mate.”

Dan pulls at Phil’s arm to which Phil resists jokingly. “Urgh do I have to?”

“You sound too much like me, we’re talking to people.”

“Fine.” Phil pouts. But with Dan by his side, he is a lot calmer than before.

 

*

 

Talking to people turns out to be easy when the people are industry guys that know everything they need to know about you. Or at least what is relevant to them. Phil is asked a lot of questions as he passes from one group to other. He makes people laugh, hopes it’s his jokes and not him that they are laughing at. Dan stays by him throughout the night still maintaining the distance. He adds a few comments every now and then but it is mostly Phil that does the talking. 

Same answers and same jokes for different people. “Yes, he is very excited and scared to start shooting.” “Of course he slept with someone how else did he get this job (a risque joke).” “He is very lucky to be working with the people he is working with.”

There is no mention of Dan and him. Whether he should feel relieved or not by that, he doesn’t know. He doesn’t want to open that can of worms here but curiosity is eating at him now.

Dan has stuck by his side throughout the evening. He’s grateful for that. But he doesn’t have the heart to think of any ulterior motive Dan might be harbouring. His heart won’t be able to take any of that.

Drinks in hand, Dan and Phil walk together, avoiding yells of people who want to catch up. 

If Dan won’t initiate the conversation, Phil will have to. “I want you to know that I am not sorry for auditioning for this role and getting it. I know.. I know how much you wanted to play this part.”

 

“I don’t want you to be sorry. And I’m not even going to say that I deserve it. Because more than that you deserve the role,” Dan says, serious.

“Thanks.”

They have somehow stumbled to the pool area. Phil is transported back to a time where the walking together counted as something else. The lights are still golden around the pool but he is too far away from Dan now to see the gold in his eyes. Before this, whatever this is happened, Dan was always close, close enough to brush shoulders if he as much as leant close to him. But now he deliberately walks a little far. When Phil turns to look at him, there is a smile resting on his lips but the smile is miles away from what it looked like a different time.

Dan suddenly looks at him, Phil feels caught.

“Why are you being so nice to me. I did the shittiest thing any human could do to you and still, you’re being this saint of a person.” Dan makes a frustrated noise.

Phil is at at a loss for words.

Dan continues. “I tried so hard to be far from you and be respectful. That’s why I kinda ignored you the first few days of reading. But I can’t ignore you. This is just me being plain selfish. I’m sorry. Not just for this.” He gestures vaguely between them, “For that day too.” 

He doesn’t elaborate more. That day, Phil remembers that day very well. He doesn’t need an elaboration.

The apology hangs between them. Phil had wanted to hear this since the premiere night. Angry days and sadder nights passed in hope to hear the words. During those times, he felt that these words could act as a cure, free him of all the anger and frustration. Too much time has passed since then. Or too little. He hears the words, acknowledges the feeling behind them. 

He can’t bear to think that this is all a lie. He might be seen as naive, but he just wants to not wade through any hurt again.

“I accept your apology. But I cannot forgive you, I need you to know that.”

“Of course- of course.” Dan is too quick to answer. 

“I don’t want your forgiveness. I don’t deserve it, honestly. I just wanted my apology to be heard.”

The noise from the party is making him nostalgic, reminding him of a time when his heart was not heavy and he didn’t need to categorize actions and words. His body itches to do what he did the last time he was here. 

Instead he says, “Also I could never not be nice to you.”

Dan turns to him, “How are you real, Phil Lester?”

He can now see the gold in Dan’s eyes. It’s hypnotizing. He went days without seeing them and now, seeing them up close he doesn’t want to move. Roses have thorns and the thorns pierce your skin but you always pick them up. Phil’s cuts have not yet healed.

“I’m not real. I’m a figment of your imagination Howell.” Instead he opts for a joke.

Phil likes to think that he only imagined the disappointment in Dan’s smile. 

 

*

 

“I need you to do me a big favour.”

Dan on the phone, sounds like he's up to something. 

“What?” Phil is resigned. He knows he's going to end up agreeing to Dan irrespective of what he asks. 

“I… I need you to help me rebel from society.” 

There is a pause, Dan wants Phil to say something but Phil doesn't know what to say. 

Dan continues, “Okay, it's not as dramatic as I make it sound. It's about work, the movie I promise. Can you come over?”

Dan sounds genuine, but he is an actor. There are times when Phil can trust him, after all this, but there are moments like these too where his insecurity shines through. 

It's like a mirror, relationships. Once shattered can be brought together but it can never be the same. And what you see in the relationship is your own self, distorted and never the same.

 

*

 

The last time he was at Dan's house without a party he couldn't stop laughing. Memories condensed in places, the ghost of laughter; thinking too much will just make him sad. 

The bare walls still haunt him. 

And the room is empty. Phil can hear his footsteps echo as he walks. 

“Dan?” he calls out.

“Come to my room.” Dan sounds distracted. 

It takes Phil five minutes to navigate his way to Dan's room.

“I knew you’d get lost coming here.” Dan smiles. 

“Uhmm, what exactly are you doing?” 

Dan's room is a mess. There is a the script occupying most of the study table and a few books scattered around it. There are papers flying around. Empty coffee cups fill the corners. 

“I'm not going to apologize for the mess.”

“Did you even sleep, Dan?”

Dan looks caught, “Uh- No.”

“Dan!”

“In my defence, I've been working. And reading. And researching. Just a lot of reading honestly.”

Phil joins Dan where he's sitting on the bed. 

Dan looks excited, there is a sparkle in his eyes. “The real problem is heteronormativity.”

Phil laughs, “That is the real problem.”

“You know how the role you're playing is my dream role. I'm over it,” he makes a series of complicated hand motions. “The real reason I wanted to play James was because he is a real guy. He was a real person. I wanted to give his story justice.”

“Okay.” Passionate Dan is his favourite Dan. It won't take much to convince Phil. The conviction in Dan's voice has already captured him. 

“James and William were friends. That's true. But what the story very grossly overlooks is that they were also lovers who got separated in war. James was deported before and William later. As the story says they exchanged letters and exchanged their grief. But they were in love and I want to highlight that part too.”

“So what I'm asking is, let's give them a little justice please. It'll be subtle, I don't want you to ruin your career by my little antic. But can we do something in the way we pay the roles?”

“That's what the favour was?” Phil asks. 

Dan looks scared as he nods.

“Dan you're doing me a favour by telling me all of this. I never would have known something that important about James. Of course I'll help you. Actually, you're helping me. James and William deserve better.”

 

*

 

Filming is a different experience when you’re on the other side of the camera, Phil realizes. Before all this, Phil focused so much on the camera position that he had forgotten how in your face the cameras get. It becomes more difficult to emote with a giant piece of equipment in your face and fifty people staring at you. 

He copes with all of that though. They start small, smaller scenes, nothing poignant. 

They start with the beginning of the story when James and William are unaware and exist in their bubble. He needs to act happy, oblivious of the future. It’s not difficult to do that. Dan is William and he can act happy with him, most of the time he doesn’t even need acting. He forgets that he is James sometimes who needs to deliberately add momentous glances and fonder smiles. It’s like trickling of water through closed fists, his emotions; inevitable. 

Dan becomes James too, or rather the Dan Howell he missed to see. He flourishes into an actor that makes every dialogue his, every shot his. 

When they shoot the happier scenes, just them playing in the park or taking a walk, arguing over life things; it doesn’t seem like he’s playing a part. James and WIlliam becomes hard to distinguish from Dan and Phil. And that’s what becomes scary for him- this time he knows it is just acting but his entire being glows. It’s a game between his heart and brain. The fight between Dan and Dan Howell.

 

Phil is very good. That’s a fact, of course, that’s why he is the lead actor. But it is a different thing to watch his work in front of you. The part of Dan that was jealous of Phil soothes at seeing him act. There was no way Dan could have brought out that kind of humanity in him. Phil himself is so purely human that even his work, his most superficial work, reflects that.

What warms Dan is how he keeps his promise. Dan notices too long stares and hand brushes for William. It makes him tingle, his heart flutter. There is little acting when he reciprocates, he can’t look at Phil without smiling the widest. He doesn’t know if he hates or loves the knowledge that all of this fake.

 

*

 

Ultimately Dan knows that all this just hurts Phil. Or hurt him, past tense. (He doesn’t want it to be past tense).

So he leaves. After every break, after every shoot day he leaves and goes and sits alone. It’s easier to do than have the knowledge that his proximity might hurt Phil. He doesn’t miss the disappointed look Phil throws in his direction when he retreats. It’s better to disappoint like this and even better to do while he himself hurts.

It pains him to turn away from Phil every time. BUt he doesn’t want to isolate Phil by having him run away. It’s better if he leaves.

 

*

 

Phil likes to hang out with the crew between scenes. He makes it a point to do that, because he remembers arrogant celebrities that looked down upon the likes of him before. No matter what happens, he doesn’t want to turn into one of those.

Hanging out with the crew is fun. They have a lot in common to talk about. The industry is a lot like high school with its hierarchy and it gives a lot to interact and talk about.

“Has Dan always been so reserved and you know- to himself?” Phil asks one of the AD, Erica. He doesn’t want to sound rude, he’s just curious.

“No! This is the first time during any filming that he hasn’t hung out with us. It’s actually weird. I think his brother is in town or something, that could be why. But it’s definitely weird nonetheless.”

Of course Dan is avoiding Phil, maintaining distance, being a good ex. An ex that stomped on his heart. It’s good for Phil, the distance, it helps to see the difference between Dan and Dan Howell. 

But he misses Dan. And doesn’t know what to do with all the feelings.

 

*

 

There's a little hush going on in the set when Phil enters. Usually it's very quiet, people coming right from their beds, caffeine not quite there in the system. Phil himself visits The Cafe before every filming. He can't forget his roots no matter what. 

Today though, there are already ripples of something going on among people. 

“What's happening?” he ends up asking Erica.

“Adrian is here.” she says. 

“Adrian?”

“Dan Howell’s younger brother.”

Phil knew Dan had a brother but he wouldn't have been able to gauge this kind of reaction. 

“And that's exciting because?” Phil can't contain his curiosity now. 

Erica smirks, “Oh you'll see.”

 

*

 

“Adrain! Adrian!” Dan’s voice is slightly high-pitched.

Phil is getting his makeup done when he sees Dan following an embarrassed looking teenager. Dan looks frustrated, in a fond way. Phil wants to laugh; he looks so much like Phil’s own mom when he refused to eat peas. It’s a wonderful memory to be reminded of.

“Adrian, stop ignoring me young man,” he sounds ridiculously plummy in the moment.

Adrian groans, “Dan. There is no need for this every time I come around.”

“But I barely see you now that you are off to college. Someone’s gotta teach you some manners. Also I particularly love embarrassing you. It is my rightful duty.” He ends it with a little giggle. Phil’s heart soars.

“Fine,” Adrian says only a little begrudgingly. He turns and hugs Dan and Dan makes a pleased sound as he gives a thumbs up to the entire set that was watching the event.

“This takes place every single time. It’s become quite a performance that we all enjoy now,” the makeup artist tells Phil.

“Adorable,” he almost says out loud.

He feels, watching the debacle unfold more, Dan ushering Adrian into his vanity van and Adrian refusing to pay attention to him, making Dan more and more frustrated, that he has missed out on this part of Dan. There is a part of him that Phil just never got to see; regret fills him at the thought of missing a part that was free of the inhibitions that he had put up even then, willingly or not.

Missed opportunity has the same tinge as heartbreak but he doesn’t know where to pin the blame.

 

*

 

After the shoot, Phil hurries after Dan. He doesn’t quite know what or why he’s doing it, but he knows he doesn’t want Dan to close himself in the vanity; not this Dan.

“Hey!” he calls out at Dan who gives him a surprised look.

“Hey,” Dan says.

Phil is at a loss of words for a moment. Dan raises his eyebrows at him.

“So I heard your brother is here?”

“Oh yeah!” Dan brightens at the mention of his brother. “And sorry for that commotion. It’s a thing now apparently.’

“Don’t be sorry, I enjoyed it immensely if I’m being honest.” Dan’s cheeks redden a bit, Phil feels proud.

“So are you going to introduce me?” Phil ventures.

“Uhm?”

“To your brother? Do I get to meet him?”

“O-Oh of course! But he is a teenager who also happens to want to embarrass his older brother.”

Phil laughs, “Oh I know that feeling.”

“Yeah, Martyn, I remember.”

Phil is tongue-tied for a moment. He forgets that Dan knows things about him, they know things about each other. To be reminded of that is to be taken to the past and lately, he yearns for the past.

Dan blinks at him, “I think Adrian is waiting for me. Would you like to join us?”

“Of course.”

Phil finds he is pleased. Maybe he wanted something like this to happen all along.

“Dan was such a theatre nerd, oh my god you wouldn’t believe it. Actually you could, because he is still such a nerd. But I remember I wouldn’t be able to sleep because he would be up all night practicing his lines.”

Phil can’t stop laughing. Adrian has been sharing stories of Dan while Dan is pouting, having turned an adorable shade of pink. There were protests from him in the beginning, high pitched and whiny but Phil and Adrian teamed up and shut him down. 

“He played the role of a tree once and ended up talking more than the lead actor. I don’t even know how that was possible.”

Phil roars. That is such a Dan thing to do.

“It was not possible,” Dan adds, “I got kicked out of the team the next day. But it was worth it. I mean I did make the play better.”

“Of course you did.” Phil and Adrian say at the same time.

“I hate this. You both are plotting against me.” Dan is loud and high-pitched, but he is the most happy Phil has seen him look the past few weeks.

 

*

 

“Okay I am going to be sappy for a minute and please don’t cry Dan, I beg you. Even though you were- are a nerd, you are a better big brother.”

“Adrian.” Dan chokes.

“No crying goddamn it, Aren’t you an actor?” Adrian says but still hugs Dan.

Phil feels like he is invading a private moment. There is a lot he does not know. And he wants to learn all of that, but he wants Dan to share everything about him; no hurry, no pressure. He smiles and feels a hint of wistfulness for what they could have been.

He leaves the vanity van, careful not to disturb the two.

“Hey! Phil!”

It’s Dan who’s calling him.

“You left without saying bye. Adrian has taken quite a liking towards you.”

“I have too. He is a really nice kid.”

“He is.” Dan sounds proud. “He’s kinda all I have.”

“You have me too, now.”

Phil doesn’t know if it is the right thing to say. Dan was opening up again after so long, he doesn’t want to ruin something before it even begins. A few words, and they carry so much meaning. And he means all of it.

“Yeah, I have you too.” Dan smiles, soft, like a whispered secret.

 

*

 

“I can’t believe I’m meeting your girlfriend. I’m kinda intimidated already because if she’s your girlfriend, she’s going to be as cool as you if not cooler and I don’t know how to handle that.” Phil tells Sanam.

They are on their way to a brunch place to hang out with Sanam’s girlfriend.

“Shut up Phil. She’s… nice.” Sanam gets a wide smile on her face.

Phil coos. “Aw, you really like her don’t you. You’re melting.”

Sanam is blushing but still manages to spit out a menacing fight me.

“And that's how Sanam managed to get my number in spite my strong resolve to stay floating on my own for a while. But I'm glad she came as strong as she did.” Louise looks fond as she turns to look at Sanam. 

Phil misses this, shared looks and smiles that can communicate more than sonnets; it's what that makes him ache. 

Other than that, it has been a fun morning. Louise congratulated him on his role and they traded stories about Sanam. Louise is lovely, she has pink hair and an even pinker wardrobe. She looks and sounds somewhat familiar. But he can't pinpoint where her knows her from.

“So how did you end up auditioning for the role?” Louise asks.

“Uhh…” Phil doesn't know what to say. 

Luckily Sanam says, “It’s a long story. And very irrelevant.”

“But I hear you were working post production? Why didn't you audition before?”

Before Phil can say anything Sanam says, “Lou, babe, let's not-”

“Sanam it's okay. I think it's time I start telling people. And this is just Louise.”

“But Phil-”

“It's okay.” 

He doesn't know where he gets the courage. Delving into the past has always been hard for him. He had always resorted to glossing over what had happened instead of accepting and sorting it. He prefers to repress his memory and put on a cheery exterior; but he guesses it's time to change. 

“My mother was married to a very famous actor in England. But he turned out to be an asshole, the complete stereotype.”

He hears Louise gasp. He continues, “No actor in the industry called him out, no one helped us. He was living a lie, we were living in hell. So one day we just ran away and came to America. So I vowed to stay away from the industry, I didn't want to get hurt again. So I stayed away from acting. And stayed away from the dating thing.”

“Oh Phil.” Louise exclaims.

“Yeah that worked well until Dan Howell like the entire universe knows. But I guess history repeats itself.”

“But I told Dan to break up with you.” Louise's voice is small, scared. 

“What?” Sanam and Phil both exclaim.

“I'm his agent, right? We needed to create a ripple in the news. And I told him to do something and I guess he met you in the party. So I just assumed that it was a little fling enough to create gossip but not hurt either parties.”

There is a ringing in Phil's ears. 

“But I met him before the party.”

“You? What?” The happy aura around Louise has vanished. 

“But why would you tell him to break up?” Phil can't hear his own voice. Sanam is looking at him with sad eyes, he's sure he sounds just as sad.

“It was the PR people that didn't want him to date a guy. Told me it would make him look less desirable. Oh Phil I'm so sorry.” There are tears in her eyes. 

“It was not Dan.” He can't quite register it.

He had accepted that even though Dan and Dan Howell were same beautiful souls, he had consciously chosen to break his heart. It was a fact, like the fact that Phil was still in love with Dan.

“Phil, he looked so heartbroken. I couldn't figure out why. I forced him to audition for the Nolan film. He didn't want to go near any work. I thought he was tired. He was so heartbroken.”

Louise looks so distressed. 

“It wasn’t your fault,” he says. He doesn’t want her to feel bad.

Sanam is rubbing his back. Something a lot like hope fills how chest. Somehow hope has always triumphed.

Louise picks up her phone. 

“What are you doing?” Sanam asks.

“I'm firing the PR company.” She sounds furious. 

“Good, because I want to deal with Dan on my own.” Phil is surprised at how happy and hopeful he sounds.

 

*

 

Stories come to an end. James’ story too has an end.

Phil prepares for the last day of filming by aggressively re reading the script till the words burn in his brain. The first time he had read it he was sobbing, the words blurred by his tears. His heart aches now too as he takes in those last words, those last spoken words whispered between a shared space. All of this is true; it somehow makes it better and worse.

James now feels like an extension of him. He has lived James’ life, though scripted; he has lived every memory, every emotion. Today he will be saying goodbye to him, shedding him and all of his life with a few words. He can’t imagine saying goodbye to more characters from now. No matter what though, James has carved a special place in his heart.

The set is buzzing but it is markedly shaded with sadness.

He sees Dan looking sullen as he goes around the set greeting different sets of people. Nowadays he sees him and only sees a Dan, no Dan Howell, no William, just Dan. He’s saying goodbye to everyone. If Phil concentrates he can hear the heaviness in his voice.

Dan walks towards him, “So the last day is really upon us.”

If this was a week before Phil would have made a joke. Not today.

“It doesn’t have to be,” tries to concentrate all the hope in his voice.

Dan smiles. He still looks sad.

“You were always too sweet.” Already past tense. “See you around sometime.” A goodbye.

-

_William is on the death bed, succumbing to injuries from a war that he never agreed to. James is by his side, heart breaking as he sees William where he should have been. After all it was James that wanted to be a part of something big; something big that has now destroyed him. And William had followed him, of course. The universe would split apart in half if they were separated even for a day._

_“James, did I do good? You need to tell me that what I did was good. I did everything for you, so how can it ever be not good? James. You are the best person I have known and will know.”_

_The words carry a burdensome finality that James almost breaks._

_He says, “you did so good William. You made me the person I am. Never forget that.”_

_With difficulty William sits on the bed. James rushes to his side, sitting on the edge, clutching both of his hands._

_William whispers, “see you around sometime.”_

_James wipes the tears off his face._

-

Phil is taken aback, an echo of words from moments ago, a permanent good bye.

He kisses Dan, gentle like the touch of a breeze, their hands in the middle of their chests over their beating hearts. He kisses Dan like the touch will be a revival, will erase the finality of anything ever spoken, like an invitation to more.

“See you, always.”

 

*

 

Phil gets a bouquet of roses from a florist near his home. The wrinkly woman that hands him the bouquet asks why he’s buying the roses.

“For a new beginning,” he says.

The woman smiles, “I wish you luck.”

Phil nods. He’s hopeful, after a long time. There is a new feeling of anticipation for the future and content at knowing how it’ll start brewing in him.

 

When he gets out of the limo there are too many lights on him and he is blinded for a second. The car ride had gone in a blur, he was ushered in, had his hair sprayed with the vile spray for the fifth time and told to ‘smize’ in a matter of two minutes. He doesn’t know how to navigate between the flashes so he just looks ahead.

All he can hear around him are screams, of the photographers, of the fans on the sideline, of his own team. There are voices in his head screaming too.

For a moment before he steps out, he almost bails. It's too much for him in that moment, the voices, the light, everything that is riding on this. 

The bouquet is still in hand and he inadvertently pricks himself on a rose thorn. But the roses are so beautiful, it's worth it. He is reminded of James and his story, of Dan, already on the carpet. He thinks of his own happiness and how amidst all, it's worth it.

Dan is in a simple black suit, smiling so widely he forgets how to not smile. He's standing on his own, not surrounded by a sea of people like last time. He looks golden. Phil feels golden.

“I heard roses are your favourite flowers Dan.”

Dan looks startled. He looks at Dan and then at the roses in his hand. The smile that grows on his face makes Phil want to cry. Dan spent so long apologizing and redeeming himself for a deed he never did. And he never complained. He just smiled and took everything in stride. There was a reason Dan looked golden in his dream, he is made of gold.

“Phil?” He speaks softly, like he is afraid Phil might run away.

How did Phil ever think he was not in love with him? 

How did he manage to distance himself from Dan?

“Dan, Louise told me. I forgive you.”

Dan's eyes glimmer. Around them the world is going mad; standing before him, Dan is driving him mad.

“I don't…" Disbelief.

"Phil-"

The way he says Phil's name reminds him of drowsy mornings. And a future yet to spend together.

“Dan, I spent our time together figuring out whether you were Dan or Dan Howell. But it didn't matter, because you are always you. I love you, Dan.”

Dan leaps into his arms. 

“I thought I ruined it, ruined everything,” he's crying. “I couldn't forgive himself because I hurt you. You make me better. I want to be better around you.”

Phil hugs him tighter, brings him as close as possible. 

“You've made me so happy Dan.” 

“I love you,” they say together. A wet chuckle escapes Dan.

Phil kisses him. And it's perfect and it's worth it.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!
> 
> (also can you tell this was kinda inspired by bollywood, i'm trash)
> 
> here's my [ tumblr ](madhurphil.tumblr.com)
> 
> come scream at me about phan, the fic or anything you like!!


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